Lifeblood
by IssaLee
Summary: Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were never meant to be mated, just like Harry was never meant to turn evil and Ron was never meant to be duped by a succubus but some things just aren't meant.
1. And Here In This World, We're All A Litt

I don't even know—what the heck was I thinking when I—it just sort of—it's all Nikki-chan's—oh, just read it. 

Disclaimer: Icht Nein, not mine.

* * *

_Where do you take me, my love, away from my  
parents _

_From my trees, from my little bed, and from my  
boredom,_

_ From my mirrors, from my moon, from the closet  
of my life...from my shyness?_

-Homing Pigeons- Mahmoud Darwish

* * *

**And Here In This World, I'm Broken**

**issalee

* * *

**The boy was lying on his bed, alone and without recognizable thoughts. He was on his stomach, eyes staring blankly at the wall. Every so often, his body trembled, the only signal that he was going through immense pain. The door to his room suddenly opened, and a man walked in.

Lucius Malfoy's eyes swept over his son, radiating contempt. "Come now, Draco, surely it must have happened by now. You're holding them in, I suppose? You shouldn't—it will only hurt more."

Draco clenched his fists as a particularly violent spasm forced him to curl up into a ball. He was wearing nothing but a pair of black slacks, and the fireplace wasn't burning, but he had never felt so hot in his entire life.

Lucius curled his lip in distaste. "I never asked for this—imagine! The son of such a prominent family, having _this_ inside of him. But you must pay for your disobedience, Draco."

The platinum blond boy closed his eyes, clutching the sheets to him. He knew what would come next, and he suddenly wished he could just throw himself out of the window. Lucius took his wand from his robes, raising it imperiously.

"_Crucio_," he whispered.

Draco whimpered as the pain started up again, doubling, from the effects of the curse and the pain he had already been feeling. Two small bumps appeared in between his shoulder blades, and he moaned in anguish as his jaw seemed to shift.

Lucius raised an eyebrow, before upping the curse. Draco's eyes flew open, and he let out a scream. The door flew open, and a red blur collapsed at Lucius's feet. Narcissa Malfoy gazed up at her husband imploringly.

"No—please, I beg of you, he didn't mean it! Leave him be, please!" But Lucius knocked her aside, and as she crumpled up onto the floor, weeping like mad, her son let out another shriek of agony.

* * *

Harry Potter was confused as hell. 

He had gone to the Burrow at the beginning of August, expecting to find some sort of reprieve; after all, his sixth year was like hell, with everyone on high alert for a Death Eater attack that was sure to happen, in revenge for the fall of their Lord (for the second time). Besides that, Ginny Weasley seemed intent on ignoring him, even though he wasn't sure what exactly he had done wrong and why this should bother him.

"Oi, Harry, Quidditch in the garden!" Ron called to him. Harry looked up from the _Daily Prophet_ and nodded. "Be right there, Ron." As soon as the redhead had left, he summoned his broom and the Practice Snitch he had received for his birthday from Hermione that year.

Outside, Ron was already floating next to goal hoops, which were large baskets with holes cut in the back. Fred and George Weasley were underneath them, explaining to their mother that yes, they could indeed repair the baskets afterwards.

Charlie and Bill Weasley were apparently telling jokes, as Hermione and Ginny were doubled over in laughter. Ron waved to Harry and swooped down. "Are you ready?"

Harry looked about. "That's eight players, Ron, so four on four?"

Ron nodded eagerly. "We've picked teams. It's me, Fred, Charlie, and Hermione. You're with George, Bill, and Ginny. You and Hermione are seekers, Fred and George are beaters, and Ginny and Bill are the Chasers."

Harry nodded, pretending not to notice the glare Ginny was sending his way. "Of course. Let's get started, then!"

Twenty minutes into the game, Harry had become sorely disgruntled. Ginny refused to cooperate with any of his strategies, and he was sure the Snitch wanted nothing more than to kill him. It had twice rammed into his stomach before fluttering away, and for a miniscule ball, it was very tough. Not to mention Fred and George thought it hilarious to hit the actual Bludgers through the baskets just so they could watch Ron scream.

"Ginny! Get the Quaffle, for Merlin's sake!" Harry cried for what seemed like the twentieth time. The redheaded girl looked at him with pure loathing in her eyes before grabbing said ball. Seeing as it would be the first goal in the match (it's said that the first goal in the match marks it for the rest) Fred sent the Bludger her way, and Charlie started speeding to her.

They were all stunned when she stood on her broom, threw the Quaffle past her brother, who was baffled beyond the point of reason, and jumped off the broom to avoid collision with Charlie. She tumbled when she reached the ground, stood, and flicked Harry off before stalking away.

Harry barely heard George pull up next to him. "What did you do to her, mate?" Harry shook his head.

"I honestly have no idea! She's been like that since last year too, and I'm very sure I haven't done anything to hurt her? Do you think—maybe she still likes me?" He let out an "ow!" as someone hit him in the back of his head.

Hermione was glaring at him, arms crossed and since she was absolutely terrified of flying and had to be bribed into doing this, she looked intimidating indeed. "Honestly, Harry, not everything is about you! Learn to suck it up!" So saying, she dropped swiftly from the air and ran after Ginny.

"Wow, mate, I wonder how you're ever gonna get married." Bill said, with the tiniest of smiles. "Maybe you should go apologize?"

"But they'll murder me!" Harry protested. By now all the remaining boys had floated down to he ground and started walking back to the house. Inside of the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley was shouting something, and a voice they recognized as Ginny's answered. Hermione was sitting on the door, head in hands.

"…It is ANYTHING BUT a crush, Mother! I can't believe you won't—refuse to believe me!" Ginny was saying. There was a crashing noise.

"I can't believe you…dishonor…horrible…" Harry could only catch snatches of Mrs. Weasley's side of the conversation, but Ginny's was much louder.

"I DON'T CARE MUM! JUST BECAUSE HE'S—Don't tell me to lower my voice! It's not like he can hear, Mum! I can't believe this—just—just leave me alone!" The door flew open and Ginny raced past them, sprinting up the stairs with incredible speed. Hermione raised her head and sighing wearily, she followed. The door slammed from upstairs, twice.

There was low murmuring from inside of the kitchen, followed by a fresh round of things banging about. Charlie shook his head. "It's been like this all summer, Harry. We don't know what it's about, but Mum, Dad and Hermione sure do. Ginny's become an enigma, now. All we can figure is that it has to do with a guy."

They all glanced meaningfully at Harry, who shook his head. "No idea, remember guys? If she does, she's never hinted at me about it since her third year."

"And don't you forget it," Fred said playfully. His mood sobered, then. "But if you're not who she's talking about, then who is it?" Bill shrugged.

"I don't suppose we'll ever know, now will we?" He turned to Ron, his ponytail narrowly avoiding a collision with Harry's face. "Now, little bro, why have you been so quiet during this whole thing?"

Ron scuffed the floor silently, before meeting their eyes. "I always wanted her to get with Harry, it was the only thing that would've made sense all my life…"

They all laughed.

* * *

Ginny was lying on her bed, and staring at the ceiling in a very meaningful way. Hermione walked in, and gave her a disapproving look. "You're going to have to tell them soon, especially if you plan on leaving." 

Ginny flipped over onto her stomach and fiddled with the cloth of the pillow. "Yes, but I was hoping to just say it and then run." There was a pause, and then Hermione sighed.

"It's not Harry's fault, Gin. He couldn't have known!"

Hermione was startled to see tears fighting to get out in the corner of Ginny's eyes as the redhead sat up. "Yes it is, Hermione! If Harry hadn't—hadn't said those things and been such a bloody hero, then maybe I wouldn't have gotten that letter inviting me to go with him. Then maybe Mum and Dad would just go on, pretending not to see the owls."

"It couldn't have gone on forever, Gin." Hermione maintained firmly. "You'd have to tell your brothers soon enough, and when you did, there'd be hell to pay, and you know it. Why not just do it now?"

"It was bad enough with me; how do you think Ron's going to take it?" She sulked. The door opened suddenly, and Mr. Weasley walked in. He looked strangely detached from the world, none of his usual bounciness being intact.

"Ginny—your mother and I have been talking. Judging by the argument we heard, it seems like you're adamant in this decision." If Arthur was struggling not to get down on his knees and beg his only daughter to listen to him, he wasn't doing a very good job of it. "You can go. But you must tell the others first."

Ginny exchanged a shocked look with Hermione, before looking back to her father and nodding. "Thanks, Dad. I'll be right there to see you before the train—it's only in another two weeks."

Arthur nodded, his face still grave. "But you must owl us every day, and we want you to try and Floo by sometime. Ok?" Ginny got off the bed carefully, walked over to her father and kissed him lightly on the cheek.

"No worries, Dad. He'd never do anything to hurt me. But it'll only be me telling the guys? You won't be there?" Mr. Weasley mistook her intentions.

"Ginny, your brothers and Harry wouldn't hurt him, at least not in front of me and your mother, and we will be there when he comes." Ginny let out a short, bitter laugh.

"Actually, Dad, I'm more worried for my own health than his."

* * *

Half an hour later, Ginny had finished packing, and found herself sitting with Hermione on one side of the dining table. The boys were sitting on the other side; Mr. And Mrs. Weasley were just behind the door. 

"Ok, Ginbug, why're we here?" Fred gave her a lopsided grin, and she reflected on how if she let out her news then, the grin would probably slide right off his face and end up in a liquid pile on the floor.

"Ginny's got something very important to tell you." Hermione, sensing her distress, had started off. "She's going away for the rest of the week to spend some time with her best friend. He's got a few problems that have just come up and needs her there."

"He?"

"Oh."

"He?"

"He?"

"He?"

"He?"

Ginny almost smiled; she'd expected those reactions. Only Harry seemed indifferent, but now her brothers were all over her. "Who is it?" Ron asked, his face tinting. "Is it Dean? Or Seamus?"

"Are you sure you're not talking about someone like Corner? We're still not sure he's a guy yet." George added thoughtfully.

"Who is it, Gin?" Charlie asked her pointedly, with a good-natured smile but underneath, he was just as tense as any of his brothers. Ginny looked down at her hands, which were folded neatly in her lap. Her wand was there too; she was hoping she wouldn't have to use it.

"He's coming to pick me up today; we're taking a car to sort of cottage place. He's not getting—getting along with his parents." She chided herself for stumbling over her words, but no one seemed to notice.

"Maybe it's a Ravenclaw," Fred volunteered. "Or a Hufflepuff." All his brothers turned to him in distaste, and he smiled sheepishly. "Right, right. Gin's too well-bred to even think about a Hufflepuff."

"D'you think it's a Slytherin?" Bill said. The kitchen was suddenly very still, and Ginny swore she could hear the leaves falling outside. She kept her eyes cast down to her lap, marveling at how many folds she could make in the pleated skirt.

"It's a Slytherin." Hermione said, after a while. The boys were horrified, even Harry almost fell off his stool. George held up a hand, looking a little pallid.

"Wait, wait. Maybe it's someone like Zabini—he's not meant to be in Slytherin, poor bloke. He was the one who stopped Malfoy calling Hermione a Mudblood a few times when we were still there, right?"

"It's not Zabini." The redheaded girl shook her head, and looked up. She was getting tired of all the secrecy of this, and stood, planting both hands on the table. "It's Malfoy."

For exactly fifty-seven seconds, not one person in the entire vicinity of the house moved. The clock hanging on the wall suddenly had the hand labeled Ginny swing to "Mortal Peril".

"How long?" Charlie spoke first, knuckles clenched against the table so hard it was a wonder the wood didn't crack. Ginny relaxed a little. This was good. They hadn't started hexing immediately.

"Since my second year. I was in the kitchens and eating some ice cream. The house-elves were sitting around me while I told them about tricks I'd played. I didn't hear him until he laughed, and it all sort of went uphill from there." She shrugged indifferently.

Harry frowned. He, Ron and Hermione had been busy that year. It was the year he'd first heard of Sirius, and Lupin was there to distract them with his lessons. He'd been busy learning the Patronus charm. Hermione had her Time-Turner. Ron was alternately questioning and fuming about Hermione. Of course they wouldn't have noticed if Malfoy or Ginny acted a little differently—of course.

"What about when you hexed him? In my fourth year, after the Tri-Wizard Tournament?" He could feel the gazes turned to him, all relived at having a question that might be unanswerable.

"He was being a prat." Ginny crossed her arms, eyes blazing. "And he deserved it. It's not like I apologized afterwards or anything."

"Ginny." Ron seemed on the verge of tears. "You're my little sister, I have to protect you. Do you hear what you're saying? Malfoy? The Amazing Bouncing Ferret? He's been torturing me and Harry since our first year!"

"He did a few bad things." Ginny waved off his accusations. "So have you two! You haven't exactly been angelic in your responses; besides, he's different. Even Hermione's noticed a change in him, especially now that she's Head Girl and he's Head Boy. They've been doing rounds together since forever; you don't think they could have talked during some of that time?"

"You knew?" Ron's voice rose as he pointed a biting finger at the brown-haired girl across from him. "You knew and you never told me or Harry?"

There was a knock at the door. Ginny bit her lip and glanced down at her wristwatch, while footsteps hurried away from the kitchen door.

"He's here?" Fred suddenly looked sick. "I thought this was just a joke, Gin. A very well-played, horrible joke." There was the murmur of voices, an exclamation, and then Mrs. Weasley's voice saying something in a soothing, motherly tone.

"What the hell, Ginny?" Ron was on his feet. "This is serious? How can you—this goes against everything we've ever taught you! Everything we've ever told you!"

"That's just it!" His sister shouted back. "Before you met him, you'd only heard stories about his father. He's not his father Ron! He was born and bred to be arrogant, but he's changed, and you know you've noticed it!"

"But he hates us!" Harry protested feebly, already feeling guilty. Ginny directed her glare to him, and he winced, wondering if this was why she had been angry all summer.

"You're one to talk," Ginny spat. "Especially seeing as it's because of you I'm spending the last two weeks of summer with him. So if you're all done telling me that I'm associating with scum, I think I have someplace to go!" She whirled around and pulled open the door. Her father almost fell on top of her, and she had to help him stay up.

"Dad." Ron crossed the room. "Dad, did you hear her? She's leaving with Malfoy! Draco Malfoy of all people! Do you remember fighting with him at the bookstore? It's his father that started the Chamber!"

Mr. Weasley winced, but didn't move otherwise. "It was his father that was wrong, Ron. Not him. Ginny knows that she has the consent of her mother and I to leave." The kitchen was once more plunged into a deep silence, and Ginny's face suddenly brightened. She turned to her brothers, and offered them a scathing frown.

"When you've all come to your sense, you can send me messages by the owl you'll be seeing every day, and I'm coming to visit by Floo." And she was gone, walking down the hallway.

Hermione rose and walked to the window, which was facing the front yard. There was a moment's hesitation before the redheads and single raven-haired one got up and scrambled over to the window, peering outside. Ron let out a low gasp.

Draco Malfoy was speaking to Mrs. Weasley, a sort of half-smile on his face. He looked much more paler than before, and a little thinner as well, but he seemed to glow with some sort of abnormal radiance. His hair had grown out, to his shoulder, but was held by a black rubber hand. He was wearing black slacks, and a light gray sweatshirt. Mrs. Weasley seemed to be enjoying herself, and her laughter floated through the walls.

Fred and George scowled simultaneously.

Ginny was suddenly in their view, dragging along a trunk. Draco took his wand out of his pocket and levitated it. She smiled briefly in his direction, before turning to hug her mother and say good-bye. Behind them, in the entrance of the Burrow, a sleek black limousine was waiting, and a wisp of smoke was visible from the back.

"Show-off," muttered Ron, and Harry felt himself to be in total agreement with him. Hermione rolled her eyes, but returned to watching the scene. Mr. Weasley joined the group outside. Draco offered his hand awkwardly, and Mr. Weasley started what must have been a long speech, but Ginny interrupted and said two words that no one could make out clearly.

Draco Malfoy blushed—blushed! And the Weasley parents did as well. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat, tried to say something, and failed miserably. Mrs. Weasley merely leaned up and whispered something in Draco's ear, before handing him a small packet and standing back.

Ginny hugged both of her parents, before grabbing Draco's arm and dragging him off. She turned around only once, to wave at the kitchen window, and Hermione waved back. Draco caught Harry's eye, and for a moment, a burning sensation went through both boys. Harry suddenly felt short of breath and slid down from where he'd been kneeling on the counter; he found his vision to be nothing more than an explosion of silver and dark green.

There was the distant sound of an engine revving up and pulling away, before there was total silence. Ron sat next to Harry, his mouth open in a small 'o'. "I can't believe she actually did that."

Harry couldn't answer. His stomach was doing flip-flops, and he got the vague feeling that meant sometime later that day, he was sure to throw up. Hermione didn't say a word, instead choosing to slip out of the kitchen and up to the room she shared with Ginny, her first frown line etched onto her forehead.

"You know what scared me?" Fred said suddenly.

"No, what?" George said.

Fred looked back out the window, where his parents were still standing, and then to the boys clustered around him. "Those two words Ginny said to Mum and Dad—the ones that made Dad stop talking? They looked an awfully lot like 'He's gay'."

For the third time that day, the teenagers lost the ability to speak.

* * *

Ginny was curled up in the backseat of the limo, scratching patterns on the foggy window. Draco was playing absently with his hair when she looked up to him, eyes twinkling. 

"You know, that went a lot better than I expected." Draco smirked.

"Was that meant to be a joke, Weasley?" He winced as she hit him. Ginny sat up and suddenly poked a finger in the hollow of his cheek. He looked shocked.

"What was that for?" Ginny shrugged.

"I wanted to see them—you know. What they looked like, since you said I can't see the—the wings." She stumbled over her words again, and swore quietly as her cheeks flamed up. Draco regarded her silently, before prodding her own cheek. She glanced up, surprised.

His mouth was partly opened, and glinting behind them was clearly a set of elongated canines. Fangs. The pale boy picked up his wand and waved it over his mouth, and the teeth shimmered for a moment before gaining a normal look. He turned back to the redhead, expecting some sort of outburst of disgust, but instead found her eyes lighting up in childish glee.

"I want a pair of those! They're awesome! Now if only I could see the wings…?" She begged subtly. Draco laughed; a quiet, somewhat restrained one, but it lightened up the air considerably.

"No way, Ginevra. You aren't sneaking those out of me; for my mate only, remember?" He chucked her under the chin when she started pouting, and removed his hand from hers so he could put his wand back in his jean pocket.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, before Ginny slipped over the edge of the seat and let her head hang down as she planted her feet against the back of the chair. She looked up at his eyes, which she found were open to anyone who dared look, and found grief hidden in the murky depths.

"How did your father take it?"

He grimaced. "His son, his only heir, being the first Malfoy to inherit Urian blood in almost ten generations? That wasn't so bad. Urian are respected, usually, to the point where they could be worshipped. But then to have the blood be tainted because—because of this?"

Ginny stared for a moment before sitting up again and propping her chin in her hands as she sat. "Ok, so tell me again, how did this happen? Your letter must be the vaguest one I've ever gotten, save for the one Gred and Forge sent me saying 'Pumpernickel must die.'"

Draco leaned back in his seat, and his eyes took on a glazed look. "It was just a few weeks back. You know why I left the Manor—and my father had told me not to. He said there might be some people doing a few things. I didn't think that this soon after weaseling—no offense—his way out of Azkaban he would try something."

Ginny pinched the bridge of her nose thoughtfully. "But you did. And coincidentally, everyone in your family or who your father considered worthy except for you was not outside on June the twenty-ninth, when Diagon Ally was attacked by the handful of vampires still loyal to Voldemort."

"Exactly." Draco nodded. "I ran, of course. Didn't have any of the necessary things needed to take them out. Aurors arrived soon; I saw my Aunt Tonks there. She was the one who found me, after that one vampire got away from the group. I had him Stunned for a moment, and had turned to leave when he jumped me from behind—"

Unconsciously, Draco reached up a hand and pushed some strands of hair behind his ear. Ginny caught sight of two areas on his neck, darker than his pale skin, before another glint caught her eye.

"Is that an EARRING!"

Draco had the decency to look ashamed for a moment before resuming his arrogant stance. "So what if it is? I got it just yesterday."

Ginny gaped. It was a single, crimson red stud in his left ear. Had she not known him for four years straight, she would have been shocked. "Payback to your dad?"

"He won't know till the end of the school year, and by then, I'm legally not under his care anyway. I collect my fortune and leave. It's all been planned; Mother goes with me." He said curtly. Ginny nodded, and then hesitated.

"No word of your mate then?"

Draco opened his mouth, but paused. He remembered the warm blush he'd felt creeping up his neck as he locked eyes with Harry, and how the first thing he had noticed was that the boy had grown more handsome, if possible. He quickly shut his mouth with a snap, however, as he heard Ginny's giggles.

"No. No word." She cast him a disbelieving look, before peeking out of the windows. "I suppose we'll just have to wait, then. Dumbledore no doubt knows of this already, and I'm sure he's going to play matchmaker with you."

Draco growled. "Old fool. It won't work with me, that's for sure."

"Riiiiiiggggghhtttt." Ginny mumbled.

"It won't!" He insisted. "I'll ignore him if I have to, skip classes, cast a Disillusionment charm when he comes closer, but there's no way I'm letting him play matchmaker!"

"That's ok. I heard from Harry it looks like he's working on Ron and Hermione these days. He's going to come after me, next." She shivered. "Maybe I should tell him I'm dating you, just to keep him out of my hair."

"Didn't we discuss this already?" Draco said dryly. "I seem to remember such a conversation ending with that oh so important realization that you didn't like me in the way, and I didn't like you in that way."

"You don't like girls in general." Ginny turned back to him. "If Pansy hadn't been flogging any girl who came near you and telling everyone you're engaged, I shudder to think who else would've known."

"Good old Pans." Draco agreed. "She's done a great deal of reputation ruining these days, what with the faking and all. Thank Merlin she isn't someone who depends on opinions."

"Shut up, you great brute." Ginny shook a finger at him. "And let me tell you something, if Dumbledore doesn't do anything, she, Blaise and I will be the ones doing the matchmaking, got that?"

"I'm afraid." Draco clutched at his chest in mock horror, but Ginny smiled, eyes glinting with some mad inner light.

"Oh, yes. You'd better be."

"Don't do that. It scares me." He looked anything but scared; in fact, he was obviously amused. Ginny scowled, and tried again.

"Can you at least take off the glamour so I can see what you look like now? You just look really sick. I want to see the new, beautiful you!"

Draco was silent for a moment, before casting a cold gaze on her. "Ginevra, you know I'm not done with the transformation yet, right? And then the glamour won't work, I'll be going to school without it, and the whole world will probably start to kiss the very ground I walk on."

"…" Ginny hit him over the head. "Stupid! That's a good thing!"

"Not if I don't find my mate!" He protested, but at the same time he winked. Ginny wriggled away from him and looked out of the window again.

"I bet you, if Fate goes the way it's been going these past few days, I know who your mate is." Draco looked at her, suddenly intrigued.

"Really? And who is the lucky person?"

A sly smile played around the redhead's lips as she pictured her brother's raven-haired friend. "Oh, it's someone you know. No need to get think any further about it, though, it looks like we're here."

And in front of her loomed the biggest mansion she'd ever seen, seeming rather dastardly in the rain that had just started up. The door opened, and Draco stepped out, not even bothering to cover up as he gazed at the house.

Ginny went after him, grumbling under her breath but secretly marveling at the size of the house. "This is where we're staying?" She let slip. Draco turned to answer her, but he never got to as several dark figures suddenly surrounded them, all wearing hoods.

Ginny let out a squeak and scrambled behind Draco, who seemed oddly calm. With no fear in his voice whatsoever, he held out a hand and said, coolly:

"I wasn't expecting you so soon."

As the figure lowered its hood, Ginny screamed.

* * *

As you can see, I was very into typing this before I realized, Holy Crap, I'm about to kill off the main character! So...is it good, bad, or what? A friend of mine (What up, Nikki-chan?) asked me to try and write a slashy-fic besides Sirius/Remus, which she says is too easy since I use her rabbit (Remus Lapin, the french bunny) her rabbit's husband (Sirius Lee Black) and her rabbit babies, who we will be naming later on today. So cute!


	2. Here, I Can't Do Much But Smile

**_This chapter is dedicated to xxaishiteru, who has reviewed (methinks) all my fics, and is always there with a positive review. Smile and recive your mental award!_**

Disclaimer: Stop teasing. I only like to tease Harry's mind a bit, I don't actually _own_ anything.

* * *

_A dress of lilac  
of powder blue  
A dress for Lily  
But no dress for you  
Smile, sweet child  
Yes, they hate you.  
But try to understand;  
That woman made you._

-On Suse, Forgetting Lils- IssaLee (Mine!)_  
_

* * *

**Here, I Can't Do Much But Smile**

**issalee

* * *

**Ginny was now sitting inside of the looming gray house, a cuppa firmly in between her hands as she glared steadily at one Draco Malfoy, whose lips kept twitching in a way that suggested he was trying very hard not to laugh.

Behind him, a crowd of his Slytherin friends was chatting good-naturedly. Blaise Zabini was trying desperately to see over Pansy's shoulder as she stirred something in a pot. Theodore Nott was in a heated conversation with Blaise's younger sister Carina on whether or not the Australian Quidditch team sucked arse. Another of Carina's friends, a reclusive seventh year by the name of Chloris Ernestine was talking in low whispers to her twin, Carleigh.

Ginny, however, had decided to ignore this very studiously. Draco decided he wanted to live until he was eighteen, at the least, and so had tried to atone for his past actions.

"I didn't think you would find the black cloaks to be so reminiscent of a Death Eater's." She didn't say anything. "And I didn't know that Blaise had managed to track them down and bring them here so quickly! I was planning to tell you later…"

Ginny's hands tightened around the cuppa. "Someday, Draco Malfoy, you will _die a dire death at my hands_." Draco had to resist an urge to smirk as Ginny slid off the stool and wandered in Carina's direction.

"Well, mate, you can smile but she didn't punch _you_." Blaise took Ginny's vacated seat as he licked some sauce from his finger. "I mean, Chloris healed it and everything, but come on, the girl can punch! She should've been a Slytherin…"

"Shame really, that she had to follow her brothers." Draco agreed. "What're we doing once Pansy's finished with the poison?"

"I HEARD THAT!" Draco ducked as a wash towel flew over his head. Blaise started to laugh, until the towel hit him in his face and he was forced to trudge up to the bathroom to wash the soap off his face.

Carleigh waved her wand lazily in the direction Blaise had taken. When Ginny looked at her questioningly, she explained. "It's a rather simple spell, and he hasn't paid me the money he owes me yet. I needed his eyes closed for the spell to work, so…"

A moment later, a scream penetrated the house. Blaise came running into the room, seething. His eyebrows had grown over so that they fell past his eyelids, and his lips. In fact, the hair tumbled to his waist and it was _still_ growing.

He shoved a hand into his pocket, removed it and threw a few coins at Carleigh. "Take it, for God's sake, take it but just GIVE ME MY FACE BACK!"

Carina shook her head disapprovingly. "I dunno, Leigh. I'd pay you twice as much as he owes you to see him like that for a week." When Blaise shrieked indignantly (and sounded much like a girl while doing so) Carleigh merely sniggered and waved her wand again. The hair rolled back up Blaise's face, snapping shut like a curtain at the end. Carleigh scooped her coins into her lap, while Chloris watched quietly.

Ginny rolled her eyes as Blaise stamped away. "Honestly, just like a Slytherin…" then she realized who she was sitting with and blushed. Pansy, however, glanced over at her as she carried the brimming pot full of sauce over to a cooling rack.

"Oh, it's just fine. We aren't Slytherins, really. We're nothing like that dithering moronic bunch that go about spouting anti-Mudblood phrases. In fact, if it weren't for Draco and Blaise, we'd all be outcasts."

"What?" Ginny seemed confused.

"Oh, it's true." Theodore spoke up. "The Malfoy and Zabini houses are pretty well-respected, so what they say goes. And now especially that we find out our dear Drakey-Wakey-Poo is a Urian, it'll be all the better."

"Haven't had one of those for a while." Chloris said as she watched Theodore dodge a swipe from Draco. "They're rare, but very powerful, so naturally it comes out that they'll be more respected."

"Even with the Vampire blood?" Ginny asked.

Chloris' eyes widened. "Well, the Vampire didn't do much besides give Draco here a thirst for blood and the fangs. The Urian blood cancels most everything out, didn't you know that?"

Ginny blushed. "I don't know much about Urians. Draco's case was the first I hear of it. I'd like to learn more, if I could."

Chloris smiled. "Blaise, Pansy and I were going to scour the library for information tomorrow morning. Would you mind hitting the books a bit early?"

Ginny shook her head, beaming. "Not at all!"

"Dinner's ready!" Pansy called from the dining room. Theodore and Draco tried to slip surreptitiously away, but Carina and Carleigh caught them by the ears and dragged them away. Pansy had already ladled some sauce onto a plate of pasta, and they shoved Draco into the seat.

Gingerly (and only because Carleigh was holding a wand to his head) Draco picked up his fork, wound some spaghetti on it and took a bite. A moment later he spit it out.

"Are you trying to poison me! We were just joking before!" he cried. Frowning, Carina leaned over and swiped a finger in the sauce.

"It tastes just fine to me!"

Everyone, including Blaise when he came down had a taste of the sauce, and everyone agreed it was fine, as well as the pasta itself.

"I think," Chloris said slowly. "That we had better start this research as early as possible. Pansy, if you'll bring us up some sandwiches, we'll be in the library." She stood from her seat and walked slowly to the door, Blaise and Ginny right behind her.

The house was just as large as it had seemed from the outside, and Ginny marveled that Chloris could find her way so easily and without aid. Less than a minute after they had left, Ginny walked into a library Madame Pince and Hermione would have had a mud-wrestling contest against each other for.

Blaise immediately conjured up three plushy armchairs while Chloris disappeared. When she came back, she was pushing a trolley with a few books on it. She dumped half of them on the floor and set about working on them, with the other two following her lead.

An hour later, Pansy had joined them, they'd eaten their sandwiches and Chloris had gone back six times with the trolley. Ginny had taken a different seat every time, and now she found herself back to back with Blaise as they read.

She found herself blushing as she felt his toned muscles underneath his thin gray sweater, and she tried desperately to keep her eyes on the book, but she could only read one word.

_"They"_

They what? Ginny goaded herself on; trying her best to ignore how…right it felt when Blaise shifted slightly. THEY WHAT, GINEVRA!

"_They are extremely rare."_

Very good. Ginny relaxed slightly. Now, what was it that was very rare? She idly turned the book over, skimming it for a title, and found none. Feeling a bit miffed, she flipped back to the page she was on and read the sentence before. Her eyes widened.

"I found it!" she cried, and stood up. Unfortunately for Blaise, this meant falling backwards, and unfortunately for Ginny, this meant her feet were knocked out from underneath her. She gave a squeal as she toppled over and let the heavy tome fall next to her. Chloris picked it up nonchalantly, leaving the two to sort each other out as she read aloud.

* * *

_"Urians: They are extremely rare. The Urian is closely linked to its cousin the Veela, but is also very different. As said before, they are very rare, thus not much information is known on them._

_An Urian usually comes of age around their seventeenth birthday, but if any sort of danger that could disrupt the Urian blood from flowing is detected, it will come up early. Some aspects of the new blood may not be erased, but most of the dangerous ones will be gone._

_An Urian will also develop wings, which are not to be shown to anyone until his or her mate has seen them first, otherwise the Urian may die. When the Urian blood comes to the surface, a transformation takes place. The skin will become pale, if already not so, and hair will grow longer. Do not attempt to cut it, as it will just grow back, and doubly so. _

_The wings of an Urian will reflect something about them; their favorite color, their mate's favorite color, something of that context. If any glamour charms have placed to hide the Urian's features, they will immediately fade after a few minutes._

_An Urian will be given a month at the most to find their mate after their blood has surface. If they do not, they will die. Their mate will be found through three simple acts: The Sensing, The Seeing, and The Kiss. _

_The Sensing is when the Urian's mate is in close proximity with the Urian, and will come in the form of a dull buzzing that will get louder as they get closer. The Seeing is when the two lock eyes, and then the buzzing will stop. The Kiss is also the first step of the bonding process, one of three, in which the two will kiss (Both of them willingly) and when this happens, literal sparks will fly between them._

_The second step of the boding process is when they both have complete and total trust in each other, and are somehow willing to lay down their life for the others. When this happens, a firm mental bond will be established within them. They may hear the other's thoughts, but only if the other is willing._

_The third and final step is the physical bond. This must be established through actual, intimate physical contact, and when this has been set in place the Urian's mate can also use a selective few of the Urian's powers._

_If the mate should reject the Urian after The Seeing, unless they perform The Kiss within twenty-four hours the Urian will die and its mate will forever live with a deep depression._

_An Urian has a few powers, and these, besides flight with the use of its wings also include; the ability to bend a few elements to their will, the ability to speak to select animals, and the ability to see the auras and detect magical and soul bonds of other people. They can also detect love bonds._

_An Urian may also not have any intimate physical contact with anyone but their mate. If the mate should reject the Urian in any way, both before and after any bonds have been established, it will hurt much more than a physical blow will. Although the Urian is physically more powerful than its mate, truly it is the submissive one in the relationship._

_Also to be noted is that when an Urian mates, their mates are also given the same power that enables Urians to live longer. Should either the mate or Urian die first, the other will follow soon after of what no one can explain as anything but a broken heart._

_After The Kiss, an Urian has three to four months in between each bond to complete the next until they are fully finished. If they are not completed, the Urian blood will take it as a rejection and, thinking they failed their mate, they will slowly die._

_It is also in the Urian's best interest to know that when they are still searching for their mate and before The Kiss, they will throw out something of an attraction that will make anyone, whether they have a love bond or not be attracted to the Urian. Only the Urian's mate will be unaffected by it."

* * *

_

Chloris looked up, smiling shyly. "And this explains all."

Pansy snorted. "What do you mean? Sure, that stuff was enlightening, but it doesn't explain why Draco hated my cooking so much!" She was still sulking, but Chloris ignored it.

"Because an Urian can't have any physical contact with their mate, and I'm sure that Draco's teething habits count as such intimate acts."

"You mean…?" Blaise looked horrified as Chloris nodded.

"He can only drink the blood of his mate, and in this case if his mate should die after his or her blood is drained, then Draco dies soon after."

Still slightly shocked, Ginny shook her head. "This is very bad. I have a fair idea on who Draco's mate is, but neither of them are going to like it at all."

The three scrambled eagerly around her, but then Chloris suddenly held up a hand. "Wait. Maybe we shouldn't pry, and just let Draco find out on his own. Knowing us, as we all love to match make I'm sure, we'll probably end up killing Draco. No, seriously, he can't even make eye contact with whoever it is unless the person is willing to snog him senseless immediately after!"

Everyone in the room sobered at this, until Ginny spoke up tentatively. "So…what is Draco gonna eat while he waits?"

* * *

Harry was sitting in an apple tree outside of the Burrow, craning his neck as he tried to get to an apple. He'd been feeling unusually hungry today, and Mrs. Weasley had said lunch wouldn't be ready for another hour or so. 

The Weasley brothers were all bemoaning the fate of their little sister, who they stated several times a day had died already and hadn't they better get a team in there already to at least get her body? Ron was just bloody pissed, seeing as at that exact same moment an owl with dark brown feathers and light yellow eyes swooped in, ruffling her feathers as she deposited a letter from Ginny.

The letter said, simply: "I've arrived, I'm alive, and I'm tired. Draco's had friends are over, and I wanted to know if anyone here knows of the Zabini clan? They're actually quite nice, as are the Ernestines."

Fred had practically toppled over. "She's living in a Slytherin-filled world! She'll go mad!" George however, had scratched absentmindedly at his head.

"Zabini…I know them, too nice to be Slytherins. Their mother and father defected from the Voldemort's army, taking him and his sister with them. Sad, though, they had two older brothers and a younger sister that stayed behind to serve. The Ernestines are a quiet lot, never hear much from them, do you?"

Harry went over all this in his mind as he shimmied along a branch, glancing every now and then at the gleaming apple hanging from the end. He had never been teased by a Blaise Zabini…never even heard of him, in fact!

Harry stretched out a hand, grunting, and not from the effort. He had been reflecting on his arch-nemesis quite a lot that day. What Ginny had said about Malfoy was true. He had been arrogant, proud, and pushed them around a little—all right, quite a bit. But hadn't they just gone and done it back? And every time Harry felt a little twinge of hate at Malfoy, because of what his father had been doing, he suddenly realized that maybe that twinge was guilt. He was being as bad as Snape!

He rolled his eyes as he scooted even farther from the tree trunk. Damn Hermione and her stupid common sense. He out of all the boys had been the only one to approach her after Ginny was gone. And for the umpteenth time in his life, she had managed to make him feel like an idiot.

He was sitting on the edge of her bed as she skimmed _Why We Cry; A Guide To Healing Spells_. "Hermione, really, why didn't you tell us?"

She didn't answer at first, choosing instead to wave her wand lightly in a motion. It sparked at the ends and she smiled, satisfied. "Well, it was simple. I didn't have to."

Harry stared at her. "Didn't have to? But Herm, Ginny was friends with _Draco Malfoy_! And you didn't say a word!"

"Well, it was her secret. She let it slip to me by a total accident, but Harry, you don't tell Ron and I loads of things. Why should I be any different? I know for a fact Ron had been sneaking my homework out of my bag during breakfast last term, and I've placed precautionary spells on it this year."

Harry blushed. "But Herm, it's Draco Malfoy! Our enemy!"

"Don't call me Herm." She said absently. "And he may be _our_ enemy, but he's not Ginny's. Their families have been fighting a feud for so long they don't even know what started it. Do you know?" She finally looked up at him, and Harry had to shake his head, no.

"They were fighting over where to hold an engagement party for one of the Weasley clan. The locations were thirty-four feet apart. You tell me why they should keep fighting, now."

Harry snatched the apple and immediately bit into it, savoring the cool taste against his parched tongue.

Sometimes, he was sure Hermione could have ruled the world with one hand.

* * *

When Ginny woke the next morning, she felt more relaxed than she ever had in her entire life. No older brothers were pounding on her door, demanding that she wake up now so they could eat. No Mum or Dad was walking about, screaming at Fred and George for almost decapitating Harry and Hermione with one of their inventions. 

She surveyed the room she was in with happiness. A four-poster bed with red silk sheets, and an armoire sat next to a bookshelf stocked with books. She had to stifle a smile as she also saw a door on the right side of the room, where there was a mirror and a vanity table. Behind that door was her very own bathroom.

Feeling as though she couldn't stand it anymore, Ginny shot up in bed and proceeded to jump up and down, silently giggling.

Oh, yes, life was good when Draco Malfoy was one of your best friends.

Almost two hours later, she grudgingly trekked down the stairs and into the kitchen, where she found Pansy and Carina chatting amiably as they ate their cold cereal. Feeling slightly out of it (She was still reeling from the effects of that _amazing_ bath) she pulled up a chair and dumped some cereal in it.

She peered at the box, and exclaimed. "Cheerios? That's a Muggle brand!"

Carina looked at her, smiling. "Well, yeah. We prefer to eat food that doesn't jump or sing, no matter how much the Wizarding world seems to enjoy it. Nice outfit, by the way."

Ginny blushed, looking down at her jeans with the knees ripped and her white sweatshirt (that she had practically threatened her Mum not to throw out). When she looked up, Carina was laughing, and it was only then that Ginny realized the black-haired girl was wearing the exact same thing, although her jeans had doodles on them and her sweatshirt was red.

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly, you two!"

And they started laughing again, just as Draco wandered in, wearing nothing but silk green boxers. The three girls gaped for a moment, before Carina muttered under her breath "My God, his fascination with silk has truly run the extra mile!"

As they tried desperately to stifle their giggles, Draco glared groggily at them and headed straight for the cupboard. He reached up and grabbed something, leaving the door open as he made his way to the table and took a bowl from the center.

"Maybe we should tell him…?" Ginny said quietly. They had neglected to explain anything about the book to Draco; for fear of making him upset. But now was a good time as any, when he was too sleepy to go find his wand. But just as Ginny started to speak, she stopped, her face twisting in disgust.

In his bowl, Draco had dumped milk, strawberries, Cheerios, slices of banana, Fruit Loops, and Frosted Flakes. And he ate it, too.

"Eww…" Carina muttered under her breath. Pansy colored.

Ginny, however, soon became enthralled. "You know, Harry eats the same thing every morning; he says the first few things cancel out the Fruit Loops and Frosted Flakes so that it's healthy."

Draco's head shot up and his eyes narrowed. "Really? Potter does?"

Ginny nodded, somewhat uncertainly. "Er, yeah, he does." To her surprise, Draco shrugged it off and let a smirk come over his face.

"Excellent. Now Potter can't say he's nothing like me anymore." And he resumed his eating, intent on finishing his breakfast.

Ginny caught Pansy's eye, and both girls knew what the other was thinking. How could he have eaten?

The day was spent in unusual silence, but one that Ginny relished in. She left it up to the Slytherins to tell Draco as she sat outside, basking in the glow of the sun from a hammock strung up between two oaks.

An owl suddenly swooped down, startling her but not enough to make her fall. She squinted, before realizing it was the one she had sent off earlier that day. What was its name?

"You don't have a name, do you?" the redhead said, stroking the owl's downy feathers. The owl hooted mournfully, and Ginny stifled a giggle.

"Ok. I'll name you, then! I'm sure Draco wouldn't mind…what do you think of Lydia? It's a nice name." The owl, now Lydia, snuggled up in the crook of her arm, and Ginny smiled at it as she removed the two rolls of parchment from her claws.

The first one was from her mother and father, both wishing her well and warning her against the Slytherins. She shook her head; typical. The second letter, however, was from Harry.

"What're you doing?"

She sat up in surprise to see Blaise and Draco walking to her. Blaise looked slightly flustered, and Draco seemed a little (hah, understatement of the century) angry as he stared at her in mild curiosity.

Ginny blushed. "I'm talking to Lydia." And then she clapped a hand over her mouth, but it was too late. Blaise was grinning widely, and Draco was smirking. "You named the owl, Weasley?"

"Shut up." She said. "She didn't have a name anyways, it was no big deal."

"I never said it was." Draco replied coolly. "Besides, she's yours. I've had enough owls in my life. My personal one is en route from delivering a message someplace."

"You mean it?" Ginny asked, wide-eyed. "I can really have her?"

Draco seemed uncomfortable. "Er, well yeah. But take her as a hand-me-down, I don't want you thinking I'm nice, now." Ginny and Blaise shared a look, clearly stating what they thought of him and Draco scowled.

"Blaise was just telling me about what you found out in the library yesterday. You didn't read the whole book?" When Ginny shook her head, he drew the volume from behind his back and dangled it above her nose.

"Well, I have, and let me tell you, it makes me wish that Vampire had finished me off. I am basically a slave to my mate."

Ginny sighed. "I only wish it had been me then. To be able to boss the oh-so-famous Draco Malfoy around? What a wasted opportunity." She giggled, much to Blaise's obvious amusement.

Draco looked up at the sky, a deep frown etched on his face. Blaise tapped him on the shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Draco looked back down at him. "I was just thinking…what if Fate cast me a cruel one and paired me with Potter?"

Both boys jumped and turned when a loud _thump_ drew their attention. Ginny scrambled quickly to her feet, with her face coloring rapidly. Lydia was clutched under her arm, looking terrified as the redhead attempted a smile.

"Er, sorry, I sort of—slipped."

"I can see that." Draco said impatiently. "But is that a letter in your hands?" Ginny nodded uncertainly. "Who's it from?"

"My parents…and Harry."

"Potter sent you a letter?" Blaise's eyes were unusually guarded. Ginny had only known him for a day but she knew just as well as anyone that he was open about nearly everything. "What's in it?"

"I—haven't read it yet." She replied.

"So read it aloud." Draco urged. Ginny cast Blaise a pleading look, but he seemed indifferent. With a slight swell of fury in her, she unrolled the parchment and read:

* * *

_**Gin,**_

_**Everyone here is sulking, even your Mum and Dad.**_

_**Hermione's been pretty quiet, but I talked to her this morning and she got me thinking…so it's ok about Malfoy with me, just don't start dating him or anything. And Fred and George (although they don't want me telling you) say they've heard the Zabinis and Ernestines are the kind of people who get into Slytherin because they're headstrong in their first year, but they mellow through the next few. Blaise Zabini is in my year, and I'm pretty sure his younger sister Carina is in yours.**_

_**How is it with the Slytherins? If they do anything to hurt you, owl quickly or Floo back to the Burrow as quickly as possible. Ron wanted an emergency portkey set up but your Mum snapped at him to "shut up and learn to trust someone who isn't red-haired, has a scar on their forehead or is likely to become his wife in the future."**_

_**Harry**_

_**P.S. Hermione says she'd owl you but Ron has been stalking her to make sure you don't contact her, so she's sending Hedwig tomorrow.

* * *

**_

"Your family isn't talking to you?" Blaise said incredulously. "What did you do?"

"Make friends with this beast." Ginny said, looking pointedly at Draco. "But wow…I'm surprised Harry's still talking to me…"

"Why wouldn't he?" Draco was obviously brooding still. "He's the Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived, no one can get on his nerves."

"That's not it." Ginny said nervously. "I sort of…blamed him for your getting bitten, and I may have been trying to make his life hell for the past few days."

The two boys gaped at her, and she rose to her defense. "What? I never told him anything, I just acted really furious at him and bloody flicked him off a few times!"

"But it wasn't his fault!" Draco said. "I told you I wandered out on my own—"

"Yeah, but why did you?" Ginny retorted. "Come on, I _know_ just to disobey your father isn't an answer. There was something more, wasn't there?"

Slowly, the seconds go by. Ginny glared at Draco while he let his eyes focus on the trees next to her. Blaise was glancing back and forth between the two when Draco finally answered.

"He was—he was just so bloody infuriating. His owl, his bloody owl was flapping around Diagon Alley. I didn't plan on staying, I was going to leave, but then I heard his voice, and he uttered a few choice _comments_ about me, after which he left. I didn't know that, of course. I merely trailed behind the owl, hoping it would lead him to me and I'd get to exact some revenge."

"And instead, you got bitten by a Vampire." Blaise hadn't realized he'd been holding his breath until Draco had finished. "So it was Potter's fault?"

"No!" Draco shook his head violently, eyes flashing. "It wasn't his fault, it was mine, for not being smart and staying the hell away!" He spun on his heel and turned quickly, striding back into the house.

Ginny and Blaise watched him go, twin expressions of confusion on their faces.

"Why was he protecting Harry?" Ginny thought aloud as she let Lydia out from under her arm. The owl hooted and settled herself in the tree above them. Blaise shrugged.

"Between you and me, I think he's had a crush on him for ages." Ginny stared at him. "No! Not Harry?" Blaise laughed.

"Of course, Harry! Potter's not exactly bad looking, even the straightest of men notice that, and neither is Draco. But I'm just guessing it took a while for him to notice, and by that time they were pretty much in too deep with their hate/loathe relationship."

Ginny ended up wondering if she should laugh or cry.

* * *

Review Replies! Yay!

Bonzai and long life to: **ATadObsessive46 **(The new bunny babies are hairless and pink, but they have been named! Harry James Potter Lapin-Black (we kind of couldn't let that one go) Bellatrix Lapin-Black (because her first name is just that cool) Albus Dumbledore Lapin-Black (in memoriam) Necille Lapin-Black, Voldemort Lapin-Black (don't ask) Liyana Lapin-Black, Lilly Lapin-Black, and lastly, Ginevra Hermione Veronica (Ron for short) Molly Lapin-Black. Because she was the first born and we were excited.) **Didaskaleinphobia **(That's a mouthful of an SN.) **xxaishiteru **(SEE ABOVE A/N!) **MidnightsRose, fudgebaby, Yana5, dblksaiyangurl **(erm, no, Draco won't be bad. Or at least, not too bad...and the Vampire that attacked him was killed, decimated and quartered by Tonks. I believe she hung its head in her living room.) **Shania Maxwell **(Ah, s'ok bout Draco/Ginny. While I lurve them (see my other fics) I also like every other pairing there is, such as Harry/Draco, harry/Sev, Harry/Hermione and so on. I just have issues with the weird ones like Aragog/Harry and at times, the ever-present Harry/Ginny. And I'll take your advice, although I wrote and loaded this before I read my reviews so wait till the next chapter if there's a huge mistake.) **siriusandharryluvrr (and ron and draco)** (It think I'll refer to you as that from now on. It's coddling me...)  



	3. Smile When You Don't Mean It

Disclaimer: Never in a million years.

* * *

_In a perfect world  
I'd be very bored  
Because all that coal  
Would be turned to gold  
Which meant the fire  
Burning oh-so bright  
Would shine an eerie yellow  
With no cheery red in sight_

-This Perfect World- Issalee (Mine!)

* * *

**smile when you don't mean it**

**issalee

* * *

**Draco was curled up in a plushy armchair, next to a fireplace in one of his many living rooms. He was rereading the book on Urians for what must have been the fortieth time. He still couldn't believe most of the information.

His glamour had already worn off, and couldn't stay on for more than a few moments. His hair was now down to his shoulders, and he kept it tied loosely back with a rubber band. His eyes were beginning to turn silver, not their normal, dreary gray. He could feel stronger too, and every night, he would flex his wings in the privacy of his room, and feel an incredible urge to fly. The wings were white, at the moment; a blank canvas, waiting to be drawn on. He didn't like them white. And he still had to worry about his mate; in another week or so, the blood would be running freely through his veins and he'd be able to locate them rather quickly…oh, joy.

The door opened suddenly, and his head popped up. Ginny looked at him, her mouth in a small 'o'. She was clutching a small bag in her hand, and when he looked pointedly at it, she smiled sheepishly.

"I was going to Floo over, but I decided to have them come in and sit and talk. It would reassure them, more."

"Can I stay?" Draco asked suddenly. She looked surprised, but nodded slowly.

"All right, but Mum and Dad wrote me to say they have business with the Order tonight. It will just be the Golden Trio—your archenemies."

He quirked an eyebrow as if to say so what? Ginny sighed and walked over the, placing the bag of powder on the mantle. "They'll be here in a moment; I only just changed the plans, but Ron won't waste any time."

She sat in another chair, glancing every now and then at Draco.

He didn't seem bothered by it all; in fact, he was back to reading his book, legs curled underneath him, his head propped up on one arm and the book lying on the arm of the chair as he read.

A sudden _whoosh!_ Startled her out of her thoughts. She looked to the fireplace just as her brother stumbled out. A moment later Hermione followed, with Harry bringing up the rear. All of them smiled when they saw her, but Draco, whose chair was at the side of the fireplace, went by unnoticed. He watched with a bemused expression on his face as Ron began ranting.

"And can you believe it, Mum and Dad won't let you come home! Isn't that unfair, Gin?" He looked beseechingly at her.

Ginny shook her head. "It's quite alright, Ron. In fact, yesterday Carina Zabini, the Ernestine sisters, Pansy Parkinson and I took a dip in the pool out back. Although it was freezing, it was fun."

"Pansy!" Ron roared. "That—that—that—"

"That what, Ronald?" Ginny said, her voice suddenly icy. "I'd like you not to insult my host's guests in front of him. I thought you had better manners than that."

"He's here?" Hermione said, suddenly looking very ashen. Ginny motioned behind them, and as one they all turned. Draco raised a hand in greeting before returning to his book. The trio stood, shocked.

Ginny worked to stifle a laugh as Harry turned back to her. "He didn't insult us!" The poor raven-haired boy was obviously confused. "He didn't say a word!"

Ginny shrugged. "Yes, he tends to shut his mouth often. You merely provoked him, I suppose."

"With what? Our presence?" But Hermione didn't say it spitefully. Rather, she was taken with the books dotting the wall. Her eyes were wandering every so often to an old-looking tome with gold lettering on the side, clearly bearing the words _A Witch's Guide to Lycanthrope_.

"Where's he keeping you, Gin?" Ron had managed to get his voice back and his glare was now boring a hole into Draco's head. The blond didn't seem to notice; he was very interested in the book in front of him.

"I'll show you." Ginny stood and made as if to walk out. "Anyone else coming?"

"I'll stay." Harry blushed as they stared at him, including Draco. "If anyone needs to contact us, someone's got to be able to talk to them."

Ginny nodded, a plan already formulating in her mind. "Of course. Nice to see you, Harry. And I'm terribly sorry for the way I've been treating you these past few days."

Harry shrugged it off. "It wasn't a big deal, Gin. Ron said you were probably going through a long and tedious time of month thing."

Ginny glanced at her brother, who shrank back slightly. "Did he now?" She had to work hard not to giggle as she led her brother and Hermione out of the room, leaving Harry and Draco behind.

And alone.

In a room.

Together.

Somewhere, Fate was cackling madly with glee.

Harry sat down in Ginny's vacated seat. Draco had given up the pretense of reading, and was now brooding as he stared into the fire. Harry would have been fine with the silence, but there was a niggling thought in the back of his mind.

"Er…Malfoy."

"What?" The blond didn't turn to look at him, but if Harry had peered a bit more closely, he would have noticed that Draco was watching him from the corners of his eyes.

"Well, I—Hermione, that is, brought a few interesting subjects to light after Ginny went."

Draco turned to look him full in the face, obviously amused. "Granger told you about the feud? Ginevra and I researched that ages ago. It wasn't a very interesting topic; it was more idiotic than informative, if anything at all is true."

Harry nodded, suddenly struck dumb by the noticeable change in the other boy's features. Draco suddenly seemed more defined in a way no mortal human could ever be.

"See something interesting, Potter?"

Harry shook himself out of his reverie as Draco smirked. "So much for you changing your ways," he said bitterly.

Draco shrugged. "I'm only—human."

Harry caught the hesitation and raised an eyebrow in a perfect imitation of Draco; so much so that the other boy burst out into laughter; and his laughter was not to be scoffed at. For one so mentally and sometimes physically abused in his childhood, laughter was where he was allowed to pour out his emotions, both good and bad.

Harry gazed in shock at him until he suddenly relaxed, and started to laugh along with him. Draco wheezed a little as he straightened up.

"Well, Potter, maybe you do have a sense of humor after all. And here I was thinking that you were just a stiff, cold relic of flesh and blood."

A grin worked its way across Harry's face. "Well, well, well, look at the pot calling the kettle black."

Draco sneered. "I am not a pot. If anything, I am a magnificent, gold cauldron with edges of silver and charms all over me."

Harry covered his face with a hand, then peeked out through the fingers. "Malfoy, you're comparing yourself to a hunk of _metal_."

"That I am."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Merlin, you are conceited. In a perfect world, then, I suppose you'd be totally different?"

"Yeah, right. I'd be exactly the same." Draco deadpanned. But then his face turned somber. "But you know, there's no such thing as a perfect world."

"Really?" Harry said, suddenly curious. "Why is that?"

Draco shrugged. "Can you imagine the person who has to watch over this perfect world? Someone has to make sure everything goes right, and they may have to resort to a few dirty means to do so. They'll probably go mad, having to sit and maintain the world in its perfection every single day."

There was a long silence as they both mulled over this, before Draco spoke up again. "Besides, I'd be bored as _merde_."

This sent them both off into a flurry of laughter, which was how Ginny, Hermione and Ron found them when they walked back in a moment later. Ginny hid a satisfied smirk while Ron gagged. Hermione looked shocked at first, but then gradually an amused look covered the whole of her face. She and Ginny had been teetering on the edge of this possibility for ages now, anyhow.

As Ron steadily turned purple, Harry managed to wave to the fireplace. Hermione got the motion first and turned to Ginny, beaming.

"We're leaving now, Gin, before Ron decides now is the perfect time to try out homicide. Bye," she said, and the bushy-haired witch grabbed Ron by an arm and dragged him over to the fireplace. She took the Floo powder from the mantle, threw some in and stepped promptly inside.

"The Burrow!" she called, and as she and Ron vanished in the roaring green flames, Ginny swore she could see Ron scrambling to get back out. She turned to Harry who, was calming down, and smiled widely.

"Well. It seems like you're having fun."

"Yeah, well…maybe Malfoy isn't such a pompous arse." Harry said carefully.

"Oh, no, he's still pompous." Ginny interjected. "You just have to learn to see past that. When you get past his sour, awful, terrible exterior, he's not quite so twisted on the inside."

Draco scowled. "Infuriating wench."

Harry proffered a smile. "And you have her for the rest of the summer. More's the pity she didn't stay the whole time."

Ginny glared at the two of them, but both kept perfectly straight faces as they stood from their chairs. Harry extended one of his hands, a tense smile on his face. "I don't suppose this erases all those years, but it was fun while it lasted."

Draco stared at the hand for a moment, a sudden apprehension in his stomach before he grasped it firmly. "Yeah. It was."

The two boys stayed like that for a moment, eye-for-eye and tooth-for-tooth as though they were staring each other down, but then both simultaneously let go of the other's hand. A flicker of dread passed through Harry as he broke eye contact.

"See you later, Gin, Malfoy." He walked into the fire, and cried "The Burrow!"

Both Ginny and Draco watched him go with their faces perfectly emotionless.

* * *

Blaise moved the carved piece of wood a space over and smiled in satisfaction as it knocked another out of the way. "So they sort of—clicked, you said?"

Ginny glared at him irritably from her position across from him; they were on the floor, and she was lying on her stomach. "Haven't I said that six times before, Zabini?"

It had been three days since the visit, and Draco had been acting oddly since then. Feeling rather worried, Ginny had spilled to the Slytherins, all of whom were gathered in the large library, doing some odd task.

"Don't anger her, Blaise." Theodore Nott flipped his broom over and proceeded to polish the other side lovingly. "She hexed me yesterday just because I asked her if that was her natural hair color."

Pansy glanced at him from over the top of her book. "Yes, well you're an idiot."

"What?" Theodore looked thoroughly confused.

Carleigh and Carina were experimenting with some Potions on the floor, watching as they bubbled and giggling gleefully every so often. Chloris was sitting next to them, recording the effects on a roll of parchment and offering the odd suggestion. Carina glanced over at her brother.

"Blaise, we've gotten past the point already. Go on, Ginevra." She ignored Ginny's scowl at the name.

"You don't ask girls about their hair color!" Pansy said to Theo. "It's rude and only those without manners do it!"

"I didn't mean it to be mean," Blaise apologized to Ginny, who merely looked at him with deep loathing as he knocked another one of her pawns aside. "It's just, I find it hard to believe that people who have been enemies most of their lives will just—_click_."

"Are you saying I don't have manners?" Theo demanded hotly.

"Of course." Ginny said, smiling wickedly as she took one of Blaise's knights. As he frowned, she continued. "I didn't think of it either, but Hermione and I were trying out some virtues last year, and patience was one of them."

"Patience is not a virtue." Carleigh interrupted. "Do you know how long I've been patiently waiting for those Omniculars I sent in three Wizard-Os box tops for? Ages and ages."

"What I am _saying_ is that you need to decide on whether or not you should phrase your questions properly."

"I asked her about her _hair_ color, Pans, not whether or not she was a _virgin_."

Ginny leaned across the chessboard as she recounted Blaise's last move by taking his rook. "All I'm saying is when Draco's done with his transition, he's gonna feel attracted to Harry, whether or not he's his mate. They're just too good with each other."

"But they're enemies!" Blaise pointed out, letting a smile of his own escape as he captured Ginny's bishop. "They could never get along!"

"What I am saying, _Theodore_, is that the question is insulting to certain people!"

"Pansy…are you doing this because you're afraid I found out you're really blond under there?"

'Well, we were enemies until now." Ginny countered, taking the Slytherin's own bishop. Blaise grinned at her, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"So what _are _we now?" He laughed while Ginny blushed.

"I am NOT BLOND." Pansy was glowering so hard at Theo it was a wonder the room didn't burst into flame. "And are you implying that I'm stupid?"

"Check." Ginny mumbled, in an attempt to sway Blaise's advances. He frowned deeply and looked back at the board. "Listen to me, Blaise, if they were together, would you accept them?"

The boy didn't answer, and she guessed he was thinking about his next move. She was right, as in another swift movement; he had placed her in check. With a puckered brow Ginny gingerly moved her queen. She then flipped over onto her back as she waited, listening to the sounds in the room.

"If you think _I'm_ stupid, then you think Draco's stupid, because he's blond too!"

"So wait…you _are_ blond, then?"

"Urgh! Boys, there's no use even trying to reason with them!" Pansy raised the book to hide her red face as Theo smirked triumphantly. Chloris handed him a potion and mimed drinking it. Blinking suspiciously, he did so, trusting the quiet girl.

In a moment, his mop of brown (?) hair had turned a dirty blond. Carleigh, Chloris and Carina collapsed into helpless laughter, followed soon by Pansy as Theo frantically attempted to use his wand to return his hair to normal.

Ginny opened her eyes, and was startled to find a pair of blue-green ones staring back at her. Blaise grinned roguishly. "I'd accept that idea as much as I'd entertain one of me and you."

He stood and walked into one of the obscure back aisles. Ginny watched him go, blushing delicately. She looked down at the chessboard and her eyes grew wide, just as Blaise's head popped out, still smiling.

"Oh, by the way—"

"Don't gloat," she interrupted. He smiled brightly.

"Checkmate."

* * *

Draco looked up as Ginny and Chloris entered the room, each clutching a heavy book. It was Saturday.

"What're you doing?" He questioned them. Ginny looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"I think the real question is, what are _you_ doing?"

Draco glanced down at his hands, a little guiltily. The truth was, he had been sitting in the same chair in the same random parlor, toying with the same exact thoughts. Life was getting a bit repetitive.

"Thinking," he said finally. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Well, we're actually doing something. Chloris and I were just going to get started on our…what did you say they were, Chlo?"

The brunette tipped her head to the side, and the small, wire-rimmed reading glasses she was wearing tipped also. "We're getting started on our research for Animagi, seeing as Ginevra is one of those lucky few who got the letter saying she was ready to try it."

Ginny scowled. "Don't call me Ginevra."

"Really?" Draco said. "I got the letter too, although I was unaware that anyone besides me did. Did anyone else get it?"

"We all did, prat." Ginny dumped her book on a desk in the corner, sneezing lightly as the dust reached her nose. "And Harry, Hermione and Luna sent me letters saying they got theirs too."

"Loony got in?" Draco asked. "Surprising."

"Don't call her Loony!" Ginny admonished. "It's not right, everyone does it to be mean—"

"I started it, and not to be mean!" The blond seemed a bit miffed. "I've known Loony since I was six. She is a Ravenclaw, and until her mother died and caused what my parents thought of as a scandal, she was a potential bride. I called her Loony because I couldn't be bothered to say Luna."

Both Chloris and Ginny seemed shocked by this, but the former recovered first. "Well, Ginevra and I were just about to check up on forms we'd like to use. You'd better do so too."

Draco waved an airy hand. "Don't want to. What's the use of being an Animagus if you can't even use it for fun? They'd find out about you if you pulled anything like _that_."

Chloris looked at him as though he were stupid. "We're not telling them our actual forms, idiot. We just need to learn a small form to hold for five minutes, as is the required time, and we'll never use it again. We have other uses for these forms."

"Like sneaking into someone's bedroom to set off a Stunner Bomb," Ginny said dreamily. "Oh, and Chlo, don't call me Ginevra."

"Don't call me Chlo."

"Done and done."

Draco shook his head, amused. "So what form did you pick?"

"That's what we were about to do, prat!" Ginny said petulantly. "Pick our forms! We told you that when you asked, remember? You'd do well to pick yours also."

"Ah, but my dear Ginevra," Draco said, perching his chin on his fist. "I have already picked a primary and secondary form. For the first, I shall be a magnificent eagle! For the second, a ferret shall do."

The two girls choked.

"A ferret!" The gasped simultaneously.

Draco nodded. "No one would expect it of me, and besides, they are very good at being sneaky. I could wander all of Hogwarts and no one would say a word."

Ginny shook her head. "You're crazy."

He raised an eyebrow. "And aren't you the one who's planning the first step of many illegal escapades with that secondary form? What a terrible Gryffindork you are."

"I'm not the only one doing it!" The redhead spat out. "Hermione's primary form is an otter, and her secondary is a cat! Harry's primary—" She stopped, suddenly ashen. "Ooh, sorry, but I'm under orders not to say."

"From who," Draco said bitterly, obviously hoping for such information. "Your precious Order?"

"It sounds to me," Chloris said quietly, "Like you would like to have known Potter's form."

"Why _have_ you been mooning since he left?" Ginny added.

Draco stood quickly, banishing the image of those shining emerald eyes that had appeared in his head from his mind. "I have not been mooning, Ginevra. Malfoy's _don't_ moon."

"They don't invite Gryffindors or Weasleys over to their houses without any evil plots afoot either." Ginny pointed out.

The blond Slytherin left the room, growling, and with Ginny shouting "Don't call me Ginevra!" behind him. As the door swung shut, a grinning redhead turned to Chloris.

"D'you see what I mean?"

The brunette shook her head. "Carleigh is the one that gets the guys. I'm the behind-the-scenes person, but even I can see where this is going."

A wicked gleam lit up in Ginny's eye. "Do you want to play matchmaker, Chloris?"

The Ernestine twin took Draco's vacated seat, a thoughtful smile on her face as she answered.

"With pleasure…Ginevra."

* * *

This was one of my fav. chaps. to write. I had Muchos Muchos Funundos while writing this. Reviews make the halo round my head spin! (And my ego inflate as big as a blimp, but...meh.)


	4. Secrets, Secrets, Making Me Fall

Disclaimer: Wait…tell me what you think, and I'll get back to you on that.

* * *

_See my crying  
I did my best  
Don't you, don't you  
Notice this? _

-Untitled- IssaLee (Mine!)  


* * *

**secrets, secrets, making me fall**

**issalee

* * *

**The blonde was sitting at his normal seat in the Great Hall, eyes alert and wary. His Slytherin robes were shining brightly as he stood, and they shimmered even more against the drab gray background.

He was alone.

And then there was suddenly someone in the shadows—but it was a shadow-person, nothing more, with glittering, emerald-like eyes. The blonde's breath hitched as the shadow pulled him into the darkness, and they both started falling.

Dying had never felt so good before… 

Draco awoke gasping for breath and sweating, with his sheets on the ground and curled up into a ball. He pulled himself up, running several fingers through his hair and wondering what had frightened him so.

The dream came rushing back to him in bits and pieces, and he coughed a little as he recalled the eyes. Those glowing green eyes…

Something was fluttering in his stomach, and as he looked about he realized it must probably be only two or three in the morning. His throat felt dry, and Draco brushed off the dream as a nightmare of sorts as he slid out of bed.

A great pain overtook him as soon as his feet touched the floor, and he clutched at his chest while he fell to the ground. His heart felt as though it was going to explode, and he had to repress a cynical laugh at how his lovingly green-spattered rooms would soon be red-spattered as he hauled his body towards the edge of the room, where there was a desk. He used it to draw himself up, heart still beating rapidly, and as he stood, his eyes were drawn to the mirror.

It was true then; he was no longer the same Draco Malfoy.

His face looked hauntingly beautiful (forget what men claimed to be manly, this was the only way to describe it) and pale, especially in the moonlight. His hair, a tousled mess of white-blond curls that were just past his shoulders was silkier than—silk! His eyes shone such a deep, deep silver, they seemed like mercury, and while he had always been in good form, his transition had made his body seem more lithe, and yet he still had the look of a toned athlete.

_Yes, yes and thrice yes_! A voice hissed in his mind, and he couldn't help feeling worried that even at such a horribly inappropriate time, he managed to admire himself in a mirror. With this realization came another one; his chest wasn't hurting anymore.

Gingerly, Draco removed his hand from his chest, gazing at himself in alarm. And then he felt it; a dull thudding against his ribcage that slowly and surely became a low, rapid buzzing noise in his upper body. Sometime during his awakening, his wings had unfurled and were now hanging limply behind him.

He took a second glance at them, though, and was shocked to see a light color tinting the pale white. It was in little speckles all over his extra appendages. A small smile grew over his face, and he folded his wings behind him, basking in the warmth of the dull buzzing near his chest that meant his mate was near.

* * *

"Have you seen him yet?" Carleigh whispered to Pansy. They were both sitting in the kitchen at the counter, a bowl of strawberries between them. Pansy plucked one up and shook her head.

"No. Why?"

Carleigh shrugged. "Ginevra went up to his rooms because he was late in getting down and he's _never_ late. Two minutes later she came running down all pale-faced, saying that no one could go up as Draco didn't want to see anyone."

Pansy bit into a strawberry. "Do you believe her?"

"I think it's bull."

"So why would she lie? I'm hoping he didn't hex her, she's such a dear thing for a Weasley!"

Carleigh snorted. "You're getting soft, Pans." But then she added, more quietly, "Remember when Chloris read from the book? What if—"

But she didn't get to finish, as at that exact moment, Draco came downstairs all in black, sweatshirt and slacks and socks with a book tucked under his arm.

* * *

_She was floating, her hair flirting with the wind behind her. The smell of mud and leather pressed against her nostrils, and she moved to get closer, feeling as though her whole being would be split apart if she didn't…

* * *

_

Draco glanced at Carleigh. Her eyes had glazed over, and she was staring open-mouthed at him. "Hello? Anyone in there?" He rapped lightly on the counter, but she didn't move.

"Pans, check this out—," he started, but stopped as he realized Pansy was in the exact same position, except she was holding a strawberry out to him.

* * *

_She relished the smell of cloves and garlic, all sorts of herbs that she was lying in, her face shielded by a large leaf. She was grounded, and she'd be damned if anyone were to try and move her.

* * *

_

Draco snapped his fingers in front of each girl's face, but they merely shook their heads a little, then pushed back their chairs and stood. Pansy held out the hand with the strawberry in it again, making a little insistent noise.

Tentatively, Draco reached out a hand and took the strawberry, biting into it. Pansy's eyelashes fluttered, and she grabbed a hold of his arm.

"Oh, _Draco_, how good you feel." She purred at him. Quite literally shocked, Draco stopped chewing and stared at her until he felt a tug on his neck. Carleigh was behind him, pulling hard.

"Come with me, Draco. I'll show you a good time." She winked brazenly at him, and he tried to suck in a breath. The strawberry bits slid down his throat, sticking in the most inconvenient of places, and he began to choke.

The girls let go of him quite suddenly, fear showing plainly on their faces. "Get Blaise!" Pansy shouted, and as the younger girl took off and Draco stole a quick breath, her eyes glazed over again.

"Oh, dear," she murmured. "Is my Dragon okay?"

The blonde looked up at her with pained eyes; his vision was already fading. As the girl drew nearer to him, he flung the book under his arm at her.

The last thing he heard before completely blacking out was a loud, satisfying _thunk_!

* * *

"Harry, did you take my copy of _Charming Charms_ by Cavil Cattily? I sort of _need_ it for school, you know?"

The raven-haired boy pushed his glasses up as he looked back at Hermione. Behind her on the bed was a large book with the words CHARMING CHARMS written on the cover. As Hermione turned to get some clothing from the top of the bed, the book shimmered out of existence and reappeared on top of her trunk. When she turned again, it did the same thing.

"Not at all, Hermione." Harry hid a smile as he ducked his head under the pretext of re-checking his trunk just as Ron entered.

"Well. I'm packed." He said glumly.

"So why so sad? I just finished." Harry shut his trunk, locking it before he stood.

"We're going back to school!" Ron replied, aghast. "And this summer was so great too, what with us being able to go out all the time without worrying about someone killing us, or spying on us so they could tell Mum about the not-so-good things we do so _she_ could kill us."

"Ron, your mother is a very nice woman with absolutely no homicidal tendencies, which makes me wonder what happens to _you_." Hermione muttered it from her side of the room, and Harry sniggered as Ron colored.

"Shut up, Hermione!"

He'd managed to forgiven her for not telling them about Ginny, and although Harry thought it might be because Ron was having trouble doing anything right without her assistance, Ron insisted Mrs. Weasley had made him do so.

"It's our last year." Hermione popped up from the side of the trunk, dumping some books in in the process.

"Amen." Ron grumbled.

"Do you even know what that means?" The witch asked him.

Harry decided to intervene and save his friend any more embarrassment. "I'll be missing Hogwarts, for sure. Where are you guys going after?"

Hermione shut her trunk, locking it firmly as she pushed her hair out of her face. "Seeing as I'm taking up a Ministry job, I've got to stay close, so I'm getting a flat in London. Speaking of which—"

She reached into her jean pockets and handed Harry a crumpled piece of paper. He opened it and found an ad concerning a one-bedroom flat with "plenty of space and a large, beautiful bathroom"!

"It's only about a block over from mine, you should check it out." Hermione busied herself with the finding of her Charms book, which was now resting just above her head. "Seeing as Ron's new place is just down the street from it, it'll be perfect! Now, what do you have to say?" she teased.

Harry grinned. "I think you guys set me up and knew this was going to happen."

Ron shrugged. "It was inevitable, mate. Hermione got one in a nice place, and there were a couple available ones. I'm going to start working in the Ministry in that new section; Dad's pulled a few strings. I get to work with the manufacturing and creation of magical candies!"

Harry shook his head at his friend's glazed look. "Herm, I bet you he's going to weigh ten stone by the time his first week ends." Ron shot him a dirty look, but Hermione had had enough.

"Honestly, you two! Where is my Charms book, I really need to find it! I was planning on reading it on the train and now—"

As she ranted, Harry raised his eyebrows at her head. Ron resisted a chuckle as he took out his wand and waved it behind his back. Harry replaced his wand quickly, and just as the book fell with a thumping noise from a bookshelf. Hermione spun to face it, hands flapping at her sides.

"Oh. It was on the shelf…I suppose I didn't check as well as I wanted to." She gathered it up in her arms and smiled brightly. "So. Who would like to study!"

Ron made a very rude motion with his thumb and index finger of his right hand, but stopped as Hermione glared at him. "Just because it's our last year, no, especially because it's our last year we do have responsibilities! We have to keep up our grades, especially if you're still looking forward to that job as an Auror, Harry."

"Of course." Harry shifted uncomfortably as he exited the room, the two right behind him. "I am going to get it, I'm sure, but there is the matter of that field test I have to take…"

"Wouldn't it be absolutely brilliant if after Harry here beat Voldemort in his sixth year he died in a simple field test?"

Harry hit Ron over the head, but the redhead didn't seem to find that funny and hit him back, on the shoulder. Hermione tutted at them before walking past them and into the kitchen.

"Conjure up a pumpkin pie, would you, Herm?" Ron called after her.

The bushy-haired witch snorted. "As if! First off, Ronald, I am unable to do magic still, seeing as my diploma is not in my hand. Secondly, do not call me Herm. Thirdly, don't you think you'd better ration off pumpkins, seeing as pumpkin juice is all you'll be drinking for the better part of a year?"

"We could always skive off classes and buy butterbeer in Hogsmeade," Harry said thoughtfully. Hermione reappeared, clutching said drink and a bowl. Harry grinned while Ron scowled.

"Stupid know-it-all."

"Insufferable idiot."

"But he's your insufferable idiot, and she's your stupid know-it-all," Harry said, interjecting before the quarrel grew. He leaned over Ron to see what was in the bowl, and his eyes went wide behind his glasses.

"Strawberries, Hermione? My second-favorite food!"

"What's your first favorite?" Ron asked.

Harry smiled deviously. "That is for me to know, and for you to never find out." He grabbed one of the small red fruit and popped it into his mouth as Ron frowned. Hermione took a strawberry of her own and looked at Ron.

"You'll look like Professor Dumbledore in a few moments, Ron, if you keep furrowing your brow like that."

The redhead's smile came back rather quickly.

* * *

Draco awoke feeling as though someone had shoved sandpaper down his throat.

"Good. You're awake," a voice said. "Drink this."

A liquid was shoved down his throat and the blonde shuddered violently as an icy feeling trickled into his stomach. He opened his eyes and found his vision to be alarmingly clear.

Blaise was smiling widely at him. "Nice one, Draco. Very nice."

"What do you mean, you stupid prat?" Draco growled at him. He looked around and found every resident of the house lying about, most of them asleep. Pansy and Carleigh were staring at him though, and he suddenly remembered the events beforehand.

"You tried to get off on me while I was choking," he muttered to Pansy. She colored rapidly.

"I'm sorry, I don't know what came over me, Draco, I didn't mean to!" She buried her flaming face in her hands while Carleigh simply looked away. Blaise rapped Draco's head sharply.

"Don't be mad at them when it's your own fault!"

"What?" Draco roared. "What do you mean, my own fault? I—" But Blaise clapped a hand over his mouth, making a shushing noise.

"Don't wake them up! I don't know what the Urian side of you was doing, but it had you conked out for hours now. You were throwing out an attraction like who knows what, and Pansy and Carleigh were just unlucky enough to be the first to see you—"

"No," Draco interrupted, understanding dawning in his eyes. "Ginny was. She came into my room and looked a bit queer; she started to walk over to me and I was just in boxers, so I sort of panicked and backed into the desk. Some things fell, and she covered her face with her hands and ran out."

"And you didn't guess then?" Blaise said sarcastically. Draco frowned.

"It wasn't as if it was I didn't consider it! Because, Blaise," he leaned forward, suddenly excited. "I can feel the buzzing. My mate's around, somewhere."

The dark-haired Slytherin glanced back at the two girls, who were looking back at him with incomprehensible emotions running on their faces. He looked back down at his friend and smiled weakly.

"That's great, D. But I gave you a potion that will lower the attraction, it's the best I could do. Now only people who aren't already attracted to someone else will feel the allure."

Draco smiled benignly. "Oh, so I take it you have a little friend waiting for you somewhere, seeing as you haven't snogged me senseless yet."

Blaise blushed. "Shut up, you malevolent little prick."

"Prick that I may be," the blonde replied, swinging his legs over the couch he was on. "I have the feeling that no one here is really sleeping, and that they all will jump up to do my bidding if I tell them I'm paying twenty Galleons to whoever gets me some water first."

There was a long silence, before a tiny voice was heard.

"We are _not_ that greedy, prat." Ginny rose up from the couch she was sharing with Carina, but she was grinning widely as she walked over to them. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Draco."

He sniffed arrogantly. "I was not dead."

"Too bad, then." Theo winked at him from where he was stretching lazily on a chaise, and Carina waved a floppy hand. Chloris didn't even bother with opening her eyes, choosing instead to remain seated in the plain, velvet-lined seat she was in with her chin resting on an arm.

"You can feel your mate?" Ginny asked, poking him in the chest. "Is it one of us?"

"You wish, Weasley." He sneered at her. "No, it's not, otherwise the buzzing would be unbearably loud at the moment, seeing as you're all in very close proximity with me."

"There goes my dream of being able to bend the great Slytherin Sex God to my every whim and will." Carina fluttered her eyelashes dramatically, and Draco scowled at her.

"Wench, if you were my mate I'd kill myself."

"But you'd kill me too!" She replied, looking at him with wide eyes. "And Blaise wouldn't like that very much, would he now?"

Draco smirked. "I'd already be dead, so what would it matter?" The dark-haired Slytherin next to him grabbed the cuff of his sleeve.

"Malfoy or not, Draco, I could still find some way to horribly mutilate your body without anyone knowing, so that at your funereal there'd be only a mangled mess. Besides, no Malfoy would dirty their hands and kill themselves," Blaise finished triumphantly.

"Shut up."

"Will do, D."

"And don't call me that!"

"Unwanted nicknames are something of a fad in this household, aren't they?" Carina said innocently. She ignored the blazing glare Draco sent her and voiced another question, seemingly to thin air. "Now, we've heard what happened from Pansy and Carleigh, but I still have a question; how was Draco able to eat the strawberries?"

There was a pregnant pause, until Chloris spoke up, opening her hazel eyes at last. "It's a food his mate probably enjoys very much, say a favorite or something."

"We could search for his mate ourselves with this much information," Theodore muttered.

"That wouldn't work," Ginny said, shaking her head. "I know several people who would kill for strawberries, and they wouldn't think a thing of it."

"Gryffindors? Killing? It's unheard of!" Blaise said.

Ginny noted the sarcasm but ignored it. "In fact, it's three people especially; Seamus Finnegan, Luna Lovegood and Harry. Potter, you fools, don't act like you don't know him."

"They don't seem like the type who would attack someone for a bright red fruit," Carleigh said. "They seem more like the type who would ask, and if they didn't get it sneak down to the kitchens or something."

"Not so." The redhead replied. "Luna and I were walking along the grounds last year, and we saw a first year with a basket of the stuff. Luna walked over to the kid, whispered something and his ear and took the basket while he ran off."

"What did she say?" Pansy asked, curious.

"She told him Hagrid had captured a unicorn foal and was holding it a ways into the Forbidden Forest."

"Lovegood?" Draco said, nodding his head. "I'm impressed. But what about Finnegan and Potter?"

"Seamus once tackled Dennis Creevey and gave him a twisted ankle when Dennis wouldn't give him a strawberry from the top of his cereal. Harry set Buckbeak the hippogriff on Seamus afterward and while Seamus ran for his life Harry had the strawberry and the rest of the cereal."

Once more, silence reigned supreme until Draco spoke up.

"So besides proving that all Gryffindors are mad, mad fools, what else are you trying to say?"

Ginny huffed and put her hands on her hips. "What I am attempting to say, prat, is that maybe someone with a great love of strawberries is your mate, and that maybe this person could be one of the three is your mate."

Draco grimaced. "Gods, I hope it's Loony if I have to pick from one of them."

Carina waggled her eyebrows. "Ooh, the ickle Dragon's got a crush on Lovegood, is that it?" She ducked as he threw one of the couch pillows at her. Blaise flopped down next to Draco, smiling widely.

"Come now, Rin, we all know of our D's _preferences_, don't we? It can't possible be Lovegood. It's got to be one of the other two."

"Come off it." Draco growled. "They aren't the only people in the world who like strawberries! My mate might not even be at Hogwarts! They could be halfway across the world for all I know."

"But they aren't," Chloris said quickly. "The buzzing would be too dull for you to even notice, in that case, wouldn't it? But you said you could feel it, so that means they're in the London area, which means they most likely will go to Hogwarts."

"We've got until the day after tomorrow to dissuade Chloris' theory, seeing as that's when the train leaves." Pansy added. "So unless you've got anything to say, Draco, what she says goes."

There wasn't a word from the boy, and Pansy smiled happily.

* * *

The Hogwarts train chugged into Platform 9 ¾ with its usual billowing steam and unprecedented decorative hull. Harry watched in the never-ending fascination as the doors opened, ready to lead him to one of the places in which he felt safest.

"…And Ron, if I so much as see _some_ of Pig's feathers missing, I _will_ blame it one you and you _will_ be the one to pay."

"Why did she bother getting him the owl if she knew he was going to try to murder it on a daily basis?" Hermione murmured, and Harry stifled a laugh as Mrs. Weasley came over to them and began her good-byes.

Almost five minutes later, a voice called his name and he turned to see Ginny waving at him. An unfortunate man behind her was trying to shove her trunk along so as to stuff it into the train, and Harry just got a glimpse of an owl before they disappeared in the crowd.

"You've gotten an owl?" he said as he hugged her. She shrugged.

"Draco offered, I took the chance before he got shirty. How have you been? I've missed you and Hermione and even Ron! I'm so upset my other, much better brothers couldn't come and see us off!"

Ron scowled. "And hello to you too, Gin."

She made as if to ignore him, but then suddenly bounded up and hugged him, burying her head deep in his chest. "Hi, Ron."

Ron smiled and patted her head, if a little awkwardly as Harry and Hermione sniggered. Ginny drew away and smiled back. "There, now don't expect anything for the rest of the year."

"She's so very kind, isn't she?"

The foursome turned to see Blaise grinning good-naturedly at them. "She almost drove Draco mad, and I'm sorry to say she didn't quite finish."

"Isn't he already crazy?" Harry asked.

"Yes, but he keeps it a better secret than any of us do." Blaise said with a perfectly straight face.

"Isn't he an idiot?" Ginny said, shaking her head. Blaise winked at her. "Ah, but I'm not a complete idiot; some of the parts are still missing!"

At this they all started laughing, and Blaise held out a hand. "Blaise Zabini. I know you all, Potter, the lovely Miss Granger, and Ginevra's older torturer."

"Older what?" Ron asked.

"Brother." Blaise replied. "Anyways, we wanted to know if Miss Ginny would grace us with her presence on the train, and if she wants, she can bring her friends too. Draco's exact words, although I added and removed a few here and there."

"Then they aren't his exact words." Harry interjected.

"No," Blaise corrected him. "They are, just modified to fit my intentions. Shall we get on the train?"

As they walked on, Hermione leaned over to Harry and Ron and whispered, "He's a very nice person, don't you think?"

Harry nodded, but Ron thought for a moment before replying. "Yeah, he's nice, but I don't think he was kidding when he said a few parts were missing."

* * *

Draco was already sitting in the train compartment, next to Theodore. The girls were in the next compartment over, and as he stared at the window, the blond found himself thinking.

His life had certainly taken a turn for the worse when this whole thing started; he had to drink the potion Blaise prepared for him until they could get to Hogwarts and find Snape, but several people were still stunned by his appearances. A Hufflepuff fourth year had cornered him in the hallway and told him to take off his shirt lest he lived to regret it; he had put a leg-locking curse on her and calmly stepped away. He was sure Granger or one of the girl's friends would find her soon, anyways.

The buzzing had gotten more insistent as they boarded the train, and he was forced to accept the fact that his mate was in Hogwarts. The only question remaining was who?

Draco loosened his shirt collar as the train started moving again, slowly but gaining speed. His chest was pounding with effort, and he was hoping that his mate wasn't sitting anywhere near them when an icy chill gripped his stomach.

"_I hate him."_

"_Stupid idiot."_

"_Prat!"_

"_I hope you die!"_

"_Spoiled brat…"_

The blond Slytherin clapped his hands over his ears as the voices resonated in his head. He barely registered that Theodore was questioning him, and as the pounding in his chest became unbearable—

_He hates me he hates mehehatesmehehatesmehehatesme…_

—Words started to run together in his head, until he couldn't make them out anymore. Seven years of insults suddenly piled on top of him, driving his Urian side crazy with grief.

_Why? Why? Whywhywhywhywhywhywhy? _

With one, small, scarcely audible groan, he keeled over and fell into a blissfully unconscious state.

* * *

Blaise was leading the four behind him to the train compartment, making odd jokes now and then and reveling in their laughter when he heard someone scream. His eyes grew wide and a single curse left his mouth.

Behind him, Harry frowned. "Wasn't that—"

But the black-haired Slytherin had already taken off, and they wasted no time in following him. Ginny, Harry, Hermione and Ron caught up to him just as Blaise pushed his way past a group of Slytherin girls.

Harry recognized some of them; there were the Ernestine sisters, and Pansy Parkinson, holding her hand to her mouth. The young girl about Ginny's age had to be Blaise's younger sister; the resemblance was striking. But he didn't have time to dwell on features as he registered what it was that had caused Pansy to scream.

"Oh, my God." Hermione gasped next to him. Ginny was in shock, staring openly as Blaise stepped out of the compartment, holding Draco Malfoy by his arms. Theodore Nott carried his legs, and from the boy's mouth, a thin trickle of blood ran down.

"What happened?" Ron asked, clearly just as shocked as any of them.

Pansy turned to him, face pale. "It was nothing, ok? Just—just a little hex gone wrong, and he fell and knocked his head. You know us Slytherins—always fighting amongst ourselves."

Ron caught the biting tone but left it alone.

"Why is it teachers don't ride the train with us?" Blaise groused as he looked down at his friend. "We need potions or something—and mine are in my trunk!"

Hermione raised a tentative hand. "I think maybe I could help. I have some in a bag I carry onboard; I don't trust the handlers not to break them."

"Can someone carry him while I go with Granger? Theo's not strong enough," Blaise said, and Nott didn't scowl, scared as he was. Harry found himself nodding.

"I may not look like much but I am pretty strong." Blaise didn't say anything; he merely shifted Draco over to Harry, and motioned for the Gryffindor to follow as they made their way down the train.

With Hermione and Blaise going towards the front, Harry was able to study Draco closely. He looked down at the mouth, curved in a grimace. Harry found himself wondering what would happen if he could make that look into a smile, before blushing and forcing himself to look harder.

That's when he spotted the glint slightly protruding from Draco's lips. Glancing up to make sure no one was looking back; Harry shifted Draco's weight, and gasped inaudibly.

He had seen these before only on the battlefield he wished never to see again; fangs, the sign of some sort of otherworldly creature. On a human, this was definite sign of Vampirism. Shuddering slightly, Harry clutched the body tighter. He'd ask Ginny about it later; now was definitely not the time.

But if Draco woke up, there was no doubt Harry would sooner kill him than ask for any answers.

* * *

I feel very sad right about now. School is back...on the plus side, I will become the Prank QUEEN! again, so all's well that ends well. B-E-A-utiful, wouldn't you agree?


	5. Let's All Pretend We're Fine and Happy

(1)Debello means, literally, "to conquer" and lamia means "witch or vampire" 

Disclaimer! Disclaimer: OH MY GOD GUESS WHAT? I don't own it. 

* * *

See the blood?  
Very good.  
Look at your hands now;  
See the blood?  
Very good.  
Tell me now, child:  
Who did it?

-Dying Is Quite Easy- IssaLee (My God, it's me again.)

* * *

**Let's All Pretend We're Fine and Happy**

**issalee **

* * *

"_I don't think…no…it wouldn't be…go, now…"_

"_Maybe I should…room…Potter…"_

"_No…take…clothes…homework…Potter, later…"_

Draco's vision blurred again and again as he forced his eyes open. He sat up, just as the Hospital Door slammed shut and immediately regretted it as he felt his head pound. Something was abruptly forced into his mouth, and he spluttered indignantly even as his vision cleared and his headache subsided.

"Draco? Are you alright?"

The blonde blinked blearily for a moment before he realized who was in front of him; Severus Snape was sitting on the edge of the bed Draco was in, emotions carefully guarded as always. Behind him Madame Pomfrey was Vanishing the bottle of potion she had given Draco, and now she peered at him intently.

"Feeling better, now? It's a wonder you didn't kill yourself, what with this whole situation and all. Approaching your mate so soon!" She tutted.

Draco almost gagged at the last part. "Mate?" He said, somewhat nervously. "What mate?"

"Oh come now," Snape said. "Every Pureblood child with even an inkling of Urian blood in them is kept recorded somehow, and Dumbledore just happened to be the first person to check your father's personal files when your manor was raided. He knows, I know, the whole damn school knows."

"Students too?" Draco asked, gripping his sheets in terror.

"See what you've done, Severus!" Madame Pomfrey exclaimed, and she wagged a finger in his face till he got off the bed. "You've gone and made him worry, so soon after he's recovered too! I swear, this school has just gone down the drain…here, Malfoy, drink this. And no, the students don't know, just the faculty."

"What is it?" Draco said, eyeing the light blue, goopy looking drink she had conjured up for him. "It's not poisonous, is it?"

"Of course not!" Mme. Pomfrey replied, seemingly insulted. "Unless you know who your mate is and if they'll accept you, I don't think you want to pass out every time you see them. Everyone is down in the Great Hall, so that buzzing should only be at a minimal. Take this and it will keep it that way."

"_Do_ you know who your mate is?" Snape asked suddenly.

Draco thought back to the train—and his thoughts. The barrage of voices started up in his head again, but lightly this time. All the same, the pressure around his heart was excruciating, and he snatched the bottle from Mme. Pomfrey's hand, downing it in one gulp. Immediately, the voices stopped, and he was left with the normal buzzing in his chest. Along with the relief came a realization; his mate had to have been someone who was heading towards him at the time that he had passed out. What was it Blaise had said?

* * *

"_Find Ginevra," Draco ordered as he sat down next to Theodore. "Ask her if she's sitting with us or the Gryffindors."_

_Blaise had winked. "Sure, oh mighty one. And shall I bring these Gryffindors?"_

"_No."_

"_You know exactly what I'm going to do, though!" Blaise said gleefully._

_Draco sighed. "Yes, I do realize that you will not only come back with Ginevra but probably the freaking Golden Trio as well. Just be sure not to let them think you're insane, all right? And don't you dare say I'm insane either."_

"_I won't," Blaise replied, with a perfectly straight face.

* * *

_

Draco blinked. It couldn't be.

But it had to be.

His mate was one of the Gryffindors, and, considering especially (as Blaise had put it) his preferences, it couldn't be Granger. And there was no way, even if Hell froze over or Dumbledore was sane, never ever in a million years could he EVER have the boy Weasel as his mate.

Which left Harry Potter.

In an eerie, twisted way, it did make sense to Draco. During their fifth year he'd had something of a fixation on Harry, and it had taken exactly thirty-eight weeks of prodding and arguments before Blaise and Pansy had finally managed to convince him that yes, it was a crush. He'd quickly quashed such a thing, though, seeing as there was no way anyways that Potter could ever even look twice at him.

It was un-winnable.

"No. I don't know who my mate is." Draco said steadily, staring his godfather in the eyes. Snape seemed suspicious about it, but Mme. Pomfrey swept him away quickly, pushing him towards the door and demanding that he let Draco receive some rest. When she bustled back in, she nodded at Draco.

"You can go tomorrow morning. Straight to your morning classes, all right? I've sent for your schedule, books and haversack, with a change of clothes too. Behave tonight, Master Malfoy."

She didn't wait for an answer and stalked off, but returned shortly. This time, she was carrying Draco's slim rowan wand. "I suggest you get rid of those fangs, good sir. You're very lucky your Aunt Tonks decided it was good for Albus to know you had been bitten. We can't have anyone knowing about those, now can we?" She gave him what could have been a friendly smile, before waving her wand to extinguish the lights and returning to her office.

Draco watched her go, before holding the wand up to his face. The spell to hide his fangs had faded because of his Urian blood. No glamour charms would work on him; what was he supposed to do? He growled and almost flung the wand away, before a thought hit him.

Carefully, he placed the wand on the tips of one of his elongated canines and whispered, "_Veni Vidi Vici_. I came, I saw, I conquered, right?" he took a deep breath and closed his eyes. "_Debello Lamia_(1)!"

The wand fizzled, before giving off a bright light. Draco felt his whole body tingling as a sort of protective case went around his teeh, encasing his canines completely in light. Had he been able to watch, he would have seen the light melding the teeth into its own form, forcing them not to retract, but to hide of their own accord.

A bead of sweat broke out on Draco's forehead, but he held onto the spell until he couldn't any longer, and he collapsed onto the bed. Gingerly, he reached up and probed the area where his fangs had been; they had disappeared, and now he could only feel normal teeth.

Wondering for the umpteenth time since the day he had been bitten why he hadn't just listened to his father, Draco Malfoy flipped over on the bed, closed his eyes and fell asleep.

That night, he dreamed of the shadow-person again.

* * *

"Ooh…Colin…move that over there and pass me some of the bacon. I don't give a damn about those muffins, they are painted cardboard." 

Colin Creevey blinked, before resigning himself to the job and shoving over a plat of muffins so that Ginny could lean over and swipe the bacon. Although he was very annoying when he wanted to be, Ginny had taken Colin in as a friend when she discovered no, he was not secretly in love with Harry; he had trying for a degree in photography and if he had celebrity photos, one of the most prestigious Wizarding finishing schools in London would accept him.

Harry himself looked as though he hadn't slept right; he was yawning and attempting to eat his eggs at the same time. Ron looked over at him.

"All right Harry?"

The raven-haired boy blinked before nodding. "Er, yeah. Just didn't get much sleep last night." He had, in fact, spent the whole night mulling over the mystery that was Malfoy's extraordinary set of teeth.

"I have Double Potions today," Ginny said in disgust, eyeing her schedule for the sixteenth time. "And with the Hufflepuffs…yuck, they always try their best."

"Is that supposed to be a bad thing?" Hermione asked as she buttered a slice of toast. Ginny sighed.

"When they try their best, they usually end up doing even worse, and Snape goes ballistic. Look, at least I have Astronomy Tuesday nights with you guys; they smushed the classes together because Firenze has got thingies to attend to."

"Thingies?" Hermione said, raising an eyebrow.

"Thingies." Ginny maintained.

Harry and Ron were about to start laughing when the doors to the Great Hall opened. Heads automatically swung that way, but they soon returned, all except for a few Gryffindors and several Slytherins.

Draco Malfoy sauntered into the Hall, neatly groomed and looking as well as ever. Ginny smiled happily as she dug into her food. "I knew he couldn't stay out for long!"

Ron muttered something that Harry was sure wasn't very kind, but he was following Draco with his eyes now. The blonde seemed normal to anyone who looked; he was still walking with the same, loping grace, although he was indeed more handsome than any other boy most had ever seen. In fact, the same heads that had turned away before were now staring insistently at him, as though boring holes in his head.

Harry watched, tight-lipped as Pansy flung her arms around Draco, smiling widely. Draco patted her back awkwardly, although he whispered something discreetly to her. As he sat down, Blaise, Theo, Carina, Carleigh and Chloris said a few words to him. He smirked and replied. Typical Malfoy behavior.

"Harry…you've killed it."

Harry turned back to his table, eyes wide. "What?"

Ginny pointed down to the banana he'd been holding in his hand, which was now smushed beyond comprehension. Ginny giggled as Harry blushed and wiped the sticky mess off his hand with a napkin.

"Mate," Ron said, smiling. "I think that you need something. How about we celebrate our coming back to school with a trip to the kitchens later on tonight? Dobby won't mind, I'm sure."

Hermione pursed her lips but didn't say a word, and after a quick glance at her, Harry nodded. "We'll feast on the last of the decent foodstuffs they have and then go to bed bloated. You want to come, Herm, Gin?"

"No. I would like to get all my homework done," Hermione told them with a slight hint of disapproval in her voice. Ginny laughed.

"I'd love to, guys, but I have a date."

"A what?" Ron asked incredulously. "With who? It's the first day back!"

Ginny shrugged. "It's not really a date. I'm just meeting Blaise for a game of chess in one of the many, many little hidden alcoves so that I may get revenge on a particularly hard-hitting game from the past. By the time I get back I'll be downed, so I'm going straight to bed."

"Zabini?" Ron said thoughtfully, and then shrugged like his sister. "Ok. I'm pretty sure he's gay anyways."

Harry snorted into his pumpkin juice and Ginny choked on her eggs. Hermione stared at him with her mouth swinging open while Colin had the good sense to pound Ginny on the back.

"What?" Ron asked, clearly surprised. "What did I say?"

No one at their table noticed the gazes from the Slytherin table. Harry started to laugh, confusing Ron even more until Ginny flicked his head, blushing.

"He is not!" The redheaded girl whispered malevolently. "He—his—his line is just as straight as yours!"

"Must be pretty wavy, then," Colin muttered, sending Harry off into a fit of laughter. Ginny and Hermione started giggling madly, while Ron colored even more.

Over at the Slytherin table, Blaise was looking very confused.

"What's got them in a tizzy?"

Pansy shrugged. "Ginevra looked furious just a moment ago, and now she's laughing as though the funniest thing in the world has happened."

Draco looked over to the Gryffindor table, eyes flashing oddly. He'd felt what could only have been a surge of jealousy at that moment, but he ignored it. "That, my friends, is the mystery that is Gryffindork."

Pany rolled her eyes, but then sobered. "Do you know what made you faint, Draco? Severus didn't tell us anything, and Theo has no idea what was going on."

"I didn't faint," Draco sneered. "I passed out. Malfoys--"

"Don't faint, we know." Blaise interrupted. "We just wanted to know if you knew who it was that had caused the whole thing. Does it have anything to do with your mate?"

Draco saw the interested gleams in the eyes of the Slytherins in front of him, and suddenly felt as though maybe this was something he had better keep quiet. "No, not at all. I merely passed out from lack of nourishment; I do need food, you know."

Looking suspicious, his friends nodded and returned to their food, not at all satisfied but understanding his need to keep this to himself.

* * *

"You don't need that," Harry told Ron later that night. They were stepping out of the kitchens, and each held some sort of pasty or sweet to last them for a while. Ron was trying to balance an armful of sweets, chocolates and boxes with cakes in them. Harry smiled. 

"You can just take them for tomorrow; I'll ask Dobby to watch them."

"Would you?" the redhead grinned back. "Thank Merlin, I thought I might have to carry this back myself, and Hermione would have killed me!"

"Yes, well, I am a good friend," Harry said slyly. He ignored the look Ron gave him and took several boxes off the top. "I'll just give these to Dobby and leave some instructions. You go back to the tower, you look tired."

Ron yawned. Harry knew that by the time he got up there, his friend would be conked out. The redhead waved as he set off down the hallway. "Thanks, Harry, you're a great pal!"

Harry shook his head as he tickled the pear again. A great pal indeed. When the portrait swung open, Dobby was already there, looking up at him with anxious eyes.

"Is Harry Potter needing anymore food?" he asked.

"No, Dobby, I just wanted to return these. They're a bit too much, but could you save them? We'll probably come get them later…if you can, that is."

"Anything for Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby squeaked. "We is putting charms on it, Harry Potter sir, and they is staying fresh!" he took the boxes and snapped his fingers; they disappeared. Harry blinked, than nodded.

"Er, right. Thanks a bunch, Dobby. I'll see you later, alright?" As he clambered out of the portrait, Dobby cried out a goodbye. Harry smiled to himself as he headed down the halls, but it disappeared as he realized Ron had taken his Invisibility Cloak.

"Now what am I supposed to do?" The Gryffindor asked aloud as he stopped in the hall. Feeling slightly abashed, he took out the Marauder's Map. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he whispered.

The diagram of Hogwarts School appeared quickly, spreading over the paper like spilled ink. Harry blanched as he realized that Filch was heading down his way, and a smaller dot labeled McGonagall from the other. Looking around a tad frantically, he noticed another hallway branching off from the main one. He took one last glance at the map and did a double take.

A dot clearly labeled 'Draco Malfoy' was farther along the corridor he was about to go down. Harry almost decided against it, but then came up with a firm resolve. If Malfoy ratted him out, he'd have to go down to.

Harry took one last backwards glance before heading off down the vestibule.

* * *

Draco shook his head irritably, blowing upwards in an attempt to shake his hair out of his eyes. He was getting tired of this; he had always been somewhat of an insomniac, but this Vampirism was just too much. He could barely sleep at night, and he hadn't eaten anything since that bite of the strawberry in the manor. 

He was terribly hungry, but he wasn't at all sure where the kitchens were or what his position was with the house-elves at Hogwarts. Besides this, the fact that the food he was eating was favored by his arch-nemesis tended to do wonders for his willpower. But every time he saw Potter (and he was sure not to make eye contact) it was all he could do to stop himself jumping the Golden Boy and sucking him dry.

Draco smiled outwardly at that, fangs glinting against the moonlight; the spell wore off at night, and he didn't feel like putting any effort into anything. The spell did take a lot out of him, and he was very sure he couldn't be able to do it every night and day.

He doubled over suddenly and had to lean against the wall as a shock of pain ran through his body. He recognized these as a form of hunger pangs; he hadn't eaten in days! What was he to expect?

Rolling his eyes inwardly, Draco slumped against the wall and slid down its length, letting his head drop into his hands.

He hated this.

He hated that his life was soon to be held in another's hands, and especially one that hated him beyond words. He hated that he couldn't eat, and that he could only watch with saddened but carefully hidden faces as his friends ate their food. He hated that he was losing sleep, not only because of the Vampirism, but because he couldn't stand to have that very same dream again and again and again. Every single waking moment was hell, and now so were his ones spent unawake.

"Malfoy."

His head shot up, and he rubbed at his sleep-weary eyes as he strained to recognize the figure. When he did, it was almost too much for his poor heart; Harry was looking away, at the window, and Draco only just remembered to concentrate on a spot just past the boy's head before Harry turned back.

"Potter," he replied. "Come for another nice talk?"

Harry almost asked what he was talking about before he remembered their conversation a few weeks back. Despite himself he grinned. "Found your perfect world yet?"

To his surprise, Draco lowered his head and buried it in his hands once more, simultaneously trying to put his longer-than-usual hair behind his ears. "No." The blond answered curtly.

Truth be told, Draco was also blushing. The fact that a tousle-haired wizarding world's savior was standing in front of him with an absolutely adorable look of confusion and bewilderment made him think many…naughty things.

"Malfoy? Are you all right?"

Draco didn't say anything. Maybe if he didn't, Harry would get tired and go away. And then Draco would be able to calm down and get rid of the blood that was currently pounding into his veins, telling him to get up, to _go_, to _bite_.

But his hopes were dashed as at the next moment, warmth slid next to him and he had to struggle not to shiver. He had to struggle not to cry out, though, when Harry's next whispered words reached his ear.

"I saw your fangs."

Draco's eyes widened behind his hands and he lifted his head slightly to peer out into the darkness ahead of him. "When?" he said finally.

He felt Harry shrug. "On the train. When you passed out, it was me who carried you out of the carriage and into another so that Zabini could give you some sort of potions."

Draco was quiet for a moment before he let his head drop back into his hands. "Go curl up and die."

Harry snorted. "Well, that was nice." There was a moment of silence before he spoke up again. "Are you a Vampire?"

Draco thought for a moment about that. He certainly wasn't about to tell Harry that he was an Urian. He doubted the Muggle-raised wizard would know what that was anyway; though revered, Urians were rare and almost never mentioned. Of course, Potter would never rest until he got an answer. Draco sneered at that; nosy Gryffindors.

"Sort of," he started hesitantly. "I mean, I was bitten, but my—blood sort of stopped it from going any further than the fangs."

"So you don't drink blood?"

"You don't shut up often, do you?" Draco snapped. Harry stiffened next to him before dropping a carefully articulated "I'm sorry."

"What?" Draco said. "Harry Potter, apologizing to Draco Malfoy?"

"It would have been more astounding if it was the other way around," Harry complained. Draco found himself trying hard not to laugh, and then, quite suddenly, it turned into something else.

"Malfoy?" Harry asked as Draco suddenly started shaking next to him. "Draco?"

And it was with that little word that Draco Malfoy bit his lip and let the tears stream out of his eyes. He turned away from Harry though, and the buzzing that had been growing slightly, even under the press of the potion, dimmed and dulled.

"Just—just leave—please," Draco said, ashamed both to be begging, crying and saying 'please'. "I don't need you."

Harry stared for a moment, eyes wide before his kinder, Gryffindor-inherited side took over. Feeling slightly uncomfortable with it all, he gripped Draco's shoulders and drew the blonde closer to him. He got over the shock rather quickly when no resistance came, and he carefully, cautiously, guardedly—hugged Draco Malfoy.

It wasn't as a short thing, either. He held Draco until the sobbing, sniffling and even deep breaths had stopped, and shortly after that just _held_ him, feeling not in the least bit awkward with the Slytherin half-sprawled in his lap and with Draco's head buried in his neck.

Draco, however, was having very different thoughts.

When he had managed to stop crying, his first reaction had been to blush like a maniac, before he started thinking up ways to explain this. It was, however, before he realized that his mouth was lying in the crook of Harry's neck.

His fangs positively _tingled_ in excitement.

Draco attempted to tear himself away, really he did, but before he knew it he had his head turned and he was opening his mouth. Harry shifted slightly from beneath him, and before he could grasp what was going on the fangs had been sunken into his neck.

Harry got the impression that this was a slightly downgraded version of heaven. Ok, very slightly then, if you insist. The fact that someone had latched onto his neck and was sucking for England was definitely not something he hoped to see anytime soon, but then again he didn't want to _die_ anytime soon.

This didn't stop him from realizing that the feeling of those soft, petal-like lips on his neck and the warm feeling spreading through his body was like ecstasy, and thus he ended up squirming only slightly. His whole world went hazy, but Harry could concentrate only on the feeling that startling warmth was wrapping itself around him, rocking him gently until he couldn't hold on to consciousness anymore.

Draco had his eyes closed, savoring the liquid fire that was pouring down his throat, quenching the thirst he had had for days now, settling in his stomach like a full meal. And then suddenly, very abruptly, he broke away, panting.

He looked down at the boy who had just comforted him, and found those vibrant green eyes he would probably never be able to look into again closed. Heart pounding, Draco wiped the blood from his mouth; never once noticing his eyes had started their streaming again.

"Potter? Harry?" He whispered. There was no answer, and with barely concealed distraught, he picked up the other boy, who suddenly seemed very much smaller than his actually tall height.

With a loping, steady run, Draco carried Harry's still body to the Hospital Wing, crying every step of the way.

* * *

Oh, Gods, never again will I type such a long chapter in three hours straight. My fingers are KILLING me. Nevermindt that despite the fact that it's only been three days of school so far, I've already got a major project and crud to do. Why? Whhhhhhhhhyyy? And I live uphill too, so walking to school is ok, but walking back uphill?

Noooooooooooooooooooo, I need liberation!

Ok, so shutting up now: Here are your review replies, you lucky ducks:

**dairygirl** (Yes, methinks Draco needs to be in a world of hurt for a while before Harry can forgive him. See him now? This is Soft!Draco, whom Harry likes better than WhipObsessed!Draco.) **xxaishiteru** (no, don't worry, when I am really not in a huge spirit I copy and paste something for a review. Don't tell, shh!) **Cheezewhizz **(Yes, I hate that too, but I might not update for a while sometimes as I have a crap school who is Nazi-controlled and thinks homework is life.) **Yana5 **(Well, now he knows) **fifespice** (in a way, yes, but no too. Draco does know about Harry now...but you see, the biting here is VERY important) **Abi2 **(Revel in school? You have to go to Nazi-Headquarters. You have to see Oberfuhrer Smith. Then we shall talk about revelers) **Shania Maxwell, Blonde Dragon, Toby7, themaraudersaremine** (You means school is out for Friday or school is out for good? If it's the latter, I haaaaaateeeeeeee you! That's not fair! And this isn't Draco's mini-break down...yet...I had to do something...ok, the best I can explain it is that Draco and Harry needed to swap a life-saving-deal-making sort of thing, and as I have the ending all planned out this is the way it must go. So this is not his break down. Not yet. That's in the next chapter...maybe...) **MidnightsRose, Danish Pastry 28** (If you remember them, tell me, as I am trying to write this and (what is it>) five other ficlets at the same time, so there are bound to be some. thanks for noticing!)  



	6. LG FUAD

Disclaimer: Today is another day…in which disclaimers are cursed, hissed at, booed, and generally hated upon by the population. Thanks, disclaimers, I realize that I don't own it. By the way, I don't own the song below either, but it is awesome and ye all must see it, methinks. Um...hear it, I mean. Longest quote ever, too.

* * *

_She steps out the car, facing to the sun and says  
Thanks, God, for making me so beautiful  
I'm not impartially, greed, but suddenly  
I find this girl, has overstepped her boundries  
We walk the parking lot, I said  
"Don't step on my white Estanz, I  
Just got them this morning"  
She said "You're wound so tight  
And yet I'll be at your house all night"  
I said, "That's probably for a reason."  
Cause when you're down I'm feeling blue,  
I'll be the one hand that guides you.  
And when you're so drunk you can't stand  
You can crash at my place, my mom, will understand. _

-Pop Love- LOONSDALE (They're a band, it's a song.)

* * *

**LG FUAD (it's a song...find out what it means and get a cookie)**

**issalee **

* * *

Hogwarts had gone awry. 

Sometime during the late night and early morning of their first day back, Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had disappeared. This might not have been such a big thing, had not several other students been missing. Every time one of the missing pupils' names were mentioned, whispers accompanied them. No professor made to quell the rumors, although neither of them answered any questions voiced, although Dumbledore disappeared for almost two days, as did Snape and McGonagall.

* * *

"Blaise Zabini…" _"Malfoy's best friend…"_

"_Known each other since they were in diapers…"_

"_Sneaky kind of guy, quiet too…"

* * *

_

"Carina Zabini…"

_"Older Zabini's younger sister…"_

"_Drop dead gorgeous, although she'd probably kill any guy who comes near her…"_

"_Crazy, too. Too many beauty potions gone to her head…"

* * *

_

"Carleigh and Chloris Ernestine…"

_"Twins? Like the Weasleys?" _

_"__Nah, big difference. The Weasleys were awesome. These two are dangerous."_

_"__Dangerous?"_

_"__They'll get you when you turn around…"

* * *

_

"Theodore Nott…"

_"Big fellow, sort of chunky…"_

"_Chaser for Slytherin…short fuse…"_

"_Wasn't very nice to Harry…"_

"…_Kidding! Wanted to kill him!"

* * *

_

"Pansy Parkinson…"

_"Clingy sort of girl…"_

"…_Slut?"_

"_No, just…clingy…"_

"_Evil, made me shudder…"_

_"Put a sticking charm in my sister's hair!"

* * *

_

"Ginny Weasley…"

_"Nice girl…" _

_"__Didn't Harry date her?"_

_"__No…friends…Malfoy?"_

_"A Weasley? No!"

* * *

_

Hermione and Ron skillfully danced around the accusations, biting their lips in private and keeping up the pretense of hiding something in the public eye. They couldn't afford to panic, especially if this ended up being something they didn't have to worry about. But Ron had trouble calming down when he realized his only sister was missing also, and he went about the day with a glassy-eyed look about him. Even Snape didn't say a word, although by the way he would open his mouth, shut it, and then open it again to make some sort of angry comment, Hermione guessed he knew something.

It had only been a week.

On the eight day of the infernal silence about anyone's whereabouts, during lunch in the Great Hall, Ginny Weasley appeared, striding calmly and purposefully into the hall, ignoring the quiet that fell in her entrance. She walked to the Gryffindor table, where Ron seemed to be on the verge of tears and beckoned to him and Hermione.

"Come with me."

And she turned around and left again. Ron stared, but Hermione snatched his hand and all but ran out of the room, neither of them noticing the fact that Dumbledore was watching them with new frown marks evident on his forehead.

Ginny stopped only to hug Ron briefly and assure him that everything was ok before she started down the hallway.

"Where—" Ron started, but Hermione waved a hand to silence him. He got the hint and they followed the younger redheaded girl all the way across the school, and down into the dungeons. Ron started to shiver inwardly as he realized she was heading for the Slytherin dungeons, the way he remembered from their Polyjuice expedition in second year. That had been the same year Ginny had been taken…

As Ron looked at his sister now, wondering what horrors she might have been through for the umpteenth time, he swore a silent vow to protect her, the same thing he'd vowed billions of times each day.

But that was how much he loved her.

Ginny veered down a side corridor just before they came to the Slytherin dungeons, though. She walked to a blank section of wall, and rapped on it six times in quick succession. Ron and Hermione blinked as the wall slid back, but they followed Ginny as she stepped through the entrance.

Inside, they found what looked like a common room, except that on where there should have been a long armchair, there was instead a bed. Lying on it, looking decidedly pale but sitting up was Harry.

Hermione put a hand to her mouth before running to him, almost bowling him over as she attempted to hug him. Ron followed suit, adapting his hug into a handshake at the last second. Harry received the signs of affection looking slightly dejected but happy all the same to see them.

Hermione was crying as she sat down in the chair next to him. "Harry, where have you been? What happened? Where are the Slytherins and Malfoy?"

At the last name, Harry's fist clenched and his knuckles became white. "Don't talk to me about that—that—" he made as if to make some sort of rude gesture, but the words he spat out were cut short as a door no one had noticed before opened and a very haggard-looking Blaise Zabini came stumbling out.

"I can't believe this," he said, yawning as he rubbed at sleep-weary eyes. "A whole week and he hasn't tried to catch even a wink of sleep! He's broken near everything in the room." He stopped as he noticed the new arrivals; giving them a small smile, which they didn't return, save for Ginny.

"Can I talk to him now?" She asked, casting a guilty glance at Harry. "Professor Dumbledore said I could when you said he had calmed down. I want to see how he's doing."

"He'll probably get you too." Harry muttered bitterly. Ginny didn't do anything but she cast him a sad glance, turning back just as Blaise nodded his head.

"The others are catching up on some sleep in the door inside. Knock thrice to get them out, if anything. I'll—" here he gulped, paling visibly and suddenly looking ten years older as he flopped (although Slytherins didn't, but Blaise was just different) into the chair across from the fire. "I'll explain."

Ginny didn't give the four a backwards glance as she entered the room.

Draco was staring at the wall, pensive as ever, with a single unbroken mirror lying next to him. He didn't look up as the redhead came in, instead choosing to let himself be swept away in a current of emotions, most of them grief and sorrow.

"Draco?" Ginny said, moving towards the bed to sit next to him. Dumbledore had managed to find the one secret room with a common room and two dorms, one of which was occupied by Draco only. "Are you ok?"

"No." The blonde said, his voice hoarse from under use. "Please, please, just kill me now." The pain was evident in his voice, and Ginny winced.

"I can't do that," she answered quietly. She wondered why he hadn't just unfurled his wings and showed them to her, but he couldn't exactly control them, could he? She was startled from her thoughts when something crashed against the wall.

Draco had thrown the mirror, and she abruptly became aware of the wreckage that was surrounding them; books, chairs, even the odd china. Ginny stumbled backwards, grasping for a doorknob as the blonde in front of her fell to his knees.

"Why?" He screamed. "Why did it have to be me that got it? Please, please, just kill me!"

"No," Ginny whispered, fumbling as she found a doorknob, not caring which one it was. She slumped against the wall, trying desperately to block out the image of this previous mountain of fortitude, now reduced to a wailing teenager. "No!" she said again, more confidently.

It was not the answer Draco wanted.

"I WANT TO DIE!" He shrieked, and collapsed on the ground, in a sobbing, heaving pile. His eyes were glassy as Ginny crawled over to him, careful to avoid the rubble around her.

"When was the last time you ate?" She whispered to him.

She didn't expect him to answer, so when he did she was shocked, and even more so by his answer.

"The last time I ate was when I drank his blood." He covered his ears with his hands, curling up into a ball and whimpering piteously. Ginny almost cried herself, but held onto her last shred of sanity and shook her head.

"That wasn't your fault. Dumbledore has an answer. He says Harry won't become a Vampire, you don't have to worry. In fact, it's better than ever. Please, he's going to tell us more later on tonight. Are you listening?"

Draco didn't say anything. His chest was heaving, and he seemed to be trying desperately not to open his eyes. "Leave?" he asked finally, sounding every inch the five year old he was not.

Ginny opened her mouth, shut it, and then spoke. "Yes, I will. But you have to leave to, Draco. Trust me, Harry may bear a grudge against you for a while, but he won't hate you."

"Harry…" the murmured answer came, followed by a deep sigh and another fresh trail of tears. "Harry…"

Ginny picked herself up, brushed off her clothes and glanced at the clock well out of the way of Draco's reach, high on the wall. "Dumbledore's coming at seven, in case you want to come."

She hesitated only for a moment before striding to the door she had entered through, opening it and shutting it with a sudden finality that clenched her heart in a sort of icy fear. She slid against the wall, noticing for the first time that all the eyes in the other room were on her.

"What?" she asked irritably.

"Zabini's just—" Ron struggled to find a way to express himself, and Ginny noted that he was trembling. "Zabini just told us about M—Malfoy." Hermione nodded, dry-eyed and looking slightly awed by it all. Blaise was sitting in the chair he had been before, a frown on his face.

Ginny glanced to Harry, and found him white-faced and looking down at his hands. Blaise noticed the way she was looking and nodded. "I told them about _everything_, Gin."

"Oh."

The word was deafening in the otherwise silent room, until Ginny righted herself, taking the initiative again.

"We should all eat. Harry?"

He didn't answer, and she decided to pretend she had never asked him. "I'll go ask Dobby. Blaise, come with me?"

"But we can just—" he began, but stopped at the look on her face, understanding dawning quickly. "Um, Gr—Hermione, Ronald, why don't you come with?"

This time Ron was the first to get it, and gave Hermione a significant glance as he stood, and then looked at Harry, who was clenching his fists once more. The four silently trailed out of the room, with Ron stopping for a moment to look back at his best friend.

"You know you have a choice, Harry."

Not an answer came his way, and he frowned lightly as he walked out, the section of wall closing behind him as he joined Hermione.

Ginny was ahead of them, head bent next to Blaise's as her eyes glowered. "You told them about Draco being an Urian!"

"Yes," he whispered back. "I also told them about Draco being bitten, but understand, I left out most of the part about mating. All I said was that we had a suspicion, and that Harry's being bitten was just a sort of—test, to see if he was Draco's mate."

"You're a terrible liar, Blaise."

"I know," the Slytherin replied, looking thoroughly disgruntled. "But I tried, and even though it was obvious they didn't believe me, I'm hoping that the Headmaster will be able to sort everything out. I know being an Urian was Draco's to tell, but it would have ended badly for all of us if I didn't. Potter deserved an explanation."

Ginny sighed, eyes becoming distant as she stared. "When Madame Pomfrey woke me up in the middle of the night, I thought it was Ron that had been hurt."

Blaise smiled ruefully. "Yeah, and then to come down to find Draco crouched in a chair like a sick kid, with blood smeared on his mouth, and then Potter lying on a bed in the Hospital Wing looking deathly ill? I'm surprised you bore it so well."

Ginny looked amused. "I retched in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom before coming back. How is that well?"

"Pansy fainted."

"Ah."

They continued like that, in fine silence, with the redheaded girl glancing back every few moments to check that her brother and friend were still there.

"Luna will be devastated."

The comment made Ginny's head turn sharply from her observation of several inanimate paintings. "What?"

"Lovegood." Blaise said, eyes still in front of him. "She'll be devastated. She really likes Draco, thinks that he has much more potential than any of us. When we—er—got a bit out of control with certain pranks and arguments, Draco always went to her. Quite funny, actually."

"Not a lot of stuff is funny these days," Ginny said carefully. "But I suppose so. Will she be visiting him? I know she'll be worried."

"I don't know." Blaise replied, finally looking at her. Ginny started as she realized how much strain this was on him; he looked tired, even more so than the others. Than again, she realized, he had never taken a break when they had either. "She'll probably want to, but she won't be allowed to. Luna's smart. She'll figure something out."

"Yeah." Ginny said, still looking distracted. "She will."

There was no more conversation after that; everything that could have been said, had been.

* * *

Harry lay on his side, eyes wide open and boring a hole in the wood of the door that led to the room Draco was held in. He'd been like that since the others had left for food; some four hours ago, and pretended to be asleep when the other Slytherins filed out of the room and outside, probably to get some food. 

He remembered when he'd woken up, only last night, after having potions being systematically pumped into him the whole time. Dumbledore had assured him answers, answers which he wanted desperately.

There was a springing noise from the otherwise silent room behind the silent door, and Harry blinked.

_Malfoy's on his bed._

Thus was his night spent, listening to the noises, wondering, pondering what lay behind that door. Was it a monster, or just that same boy who had teased him for years on end?

_Malfoy's… _

_Malfoy…_

_Malfoy…_

_Be he man, or be he beast?_

And then, at a quarter to seven, the door creaked open. Harry automatically sat up, eyes flashing as the blond-haired Slytherin strode out of the room. He was dressed normally, with his silvery hair pulled back loosely, a few strands falling into his eyes.

Harry stared dumbly, trying his best to comprehend what it was that had made Malfoy change so much, and said the first thing that came to mind.

"You have an earring."

The red ruby was glinting from his ear, true, but Draco looked slightly surprised at the statement. Harry suddenly remembered whom he was dealing with and closed his eyes briefly before letting his anger consume him.

"What do you want?"

Draco winced, and Harry felt a twinge of guilt before shrugging it off. Draco eyed him uneasily for a moment, before brushing the strands of hair from his eyes. The blonde almost smiled; Harry had absolutely no idea of the pain that was The Sensing in his chest, beating away erratically and with no sign of stopping. Feeling a bit nervous, he took the first step in his plan.

He made direct eye contact with Harry.

There was a brief moment in which both of them felt as though they were floating, elated and euphoric. But it passed quickly as Draco tore his eyes away, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall; he'd cried enough today. A loud ripping noise averted his attention to the fact that his wings had spread, glorious, by his side. They were a brilliant, dark jade green, and the tips fluttered lightly.

Harry stared for a moment, mesmerized. "My favorite color," he whispered absentmindedly, never once noticing the pain flashing across Draco's eyes. The Slytherin forced his wings down as he looked down to the ground.

"I'm sorry," he murmured quietly.

"You should be." Harry replied harshly, forgetting the wings for a moment. "What's wrong with you, Malfoy? You let a bunch of fights for a few years get to your head and you decided to just kill me? What, for the hell of it?"

"No." Draco said, resolutely keeping his eyes on the ground. "It was nothing like that." A clap of thunder startled them both, and Draco hunched his shoulders together. "You won't be bothered by me anymore, don't worry."

Harry mulled over the last statement for the merest of seconds before shrugging. "Fine by me."

Draco gaped; he already though Harry was taking this coolly enough, but to distinctly not care when wings appeared from behind his rival's back and to refuse an actual, heartfelt apology?

Without another word, Draco made for the window on the other side of the room. He lifted the heavy, rusting latch and pushed the glass open. Outside, the wind roared and rain fell heavily, masking the sky with a gray depression of storm clouds.

"You're leaving? In that?" Harry said, surprise evident in his voice as Draco swung both of his legs out of the windowsill.

The Slytherin said nothing at first, watching the storm rage with impassive eyes. He finally turned back to Harry and said, nonchalantly, "I think I could have helped you be happy."

"What?" The green-eyed boy asked, confused.

Draco shrugged. "Forget it. I'm off to find my perfect little world. Adieu, Harry." And he jumped out of the window, falling for a moment before his wings lifted, allowing him to glide with the help from the wind so that he landed safely on all fours. Harry scrambled out of bed, reaching the window just in time to see Draco stand, brush himself off and strike off for the other side of the castle, already soaked to the bone.

Harry wrapped his arms around himself, shivering with some unknown foreboding just as the door opened and Dumbledore swept in, followed by an irate looking Snape and the Slytherins, as well as Ron, Ginny and Hermione.

"Ah, good to see you're awake, Harry." Dumbledore said, smiling gently. Snape looked slightly put off, as though he had expected Harry to be dead by now. The others though, simply gave him tired looks as they found chairs or spirited them in, with the teachers remaining upright.

"My dear boy, I expect you would like answers right away?" Dumbledore asked. "But it seems Mr. Zabini has informed you of much already. How much do you know? Ah, and do shut the window, please. It's a bit chilly in here as it is."

Feeling a bit unnerved, Harry did so, then sat back down on the edge of his bed. "Er, Za—Blaise told me that Malfoy was an Urian, although I'm not entirely sure as to what that is. He told me that during the Vampire attack on Diagon Alley, Malfoy had been bitten, but his Urian blood got rid of almost everything, and that he bit me last night only because he was hungry and searching for his mate."

Dumbledore nodded, eyes suddenly gone cold. "Is that so? And where is Mr. Malfoy now?"

"In his room, Headmaster." Ginny said, pointing to the door. "I told him you were coming when I went in, but I don't think he would have been able to."

"Yes," Dumbledore said softly. "I'd expect so. Harry?"

Startled, the Gryffindor turned. "Yeah?"

"It is yes, Potter. Is your grammar so atrocious?" Snape put in snidely, but Dumbledore silenced him with a wave of his hand. The old man looked over his spectacles, considering Harry carefully.

"Is Mr. Malfoy in his room, Harry?"

The raven-haired boy seemed uncomfortable as he answered. "Um…no. He came out and—said a few things, but then he just left."

Harry suddenly found himself being pressed against the wall as Blaise grabbed him round the neck, hissing under his breath. "What did you do to him!"

"Mr. Zabini!" Snape all but yelled. "Much as I don't like Potter, that doesn't give you the right to put him in a chokehold."

"If I had my wand right now," Blaise whispered, ignoring Snape, "You'd have already been Avada-d round the block and again if anything, _anything_, has happened to Draco."

Harry suddenly got a glimpse of why Blaise had been put in Slytherin; there was the cunning Salazar had prized, as well as the clear malevolence always so carefully hidden, before Ginny was suddenly next to them, prodding Blaise in his shoulder.

"Leave him alone, Blaise. Remember what you said? We owe Harry an explanation, and we can't very well give it to him if he's dead. However, he will tell us about Draco's whereabouts, else it'll be me holding him up."

Still growling under his breath, Blaise released Harry, who slipped down rubbing at his neck. He glanced over Blaise and noticed all the Slytherin's had similar gleams in their eyes, Snape especially, and that Hermione and Ron were clutching hands.

"Harry," Ginny said softly. "Where is he?"

Harry didn't answer. A possibility had just him very, very roughly. "Is there something going on here of which I was not informed of?" he said quietly. As several people exchanged glances, his temper flared.

"I refuse to tell anyone at all about where Malfoy went until I have answers!"

Snape had crossed the room in what seemed to be two strides, wand out. "Now you wait just a minute, Potter, you're not in any position to be making demands—"

"Severus! You cannot threaten the students!"

"—And especially any about my godson." Snape finished. "So I suggest you spill before this wand—accidentally—gets stuck in your throat."

Sadly, said wand suddenly flew back and landed across the room. Everyone turned to stare at Dumbledore, who was replacing his own wand in his sleeve, with a small, tight smile. "I'm sorry, it slipped."

He looked back up, with the same smile still gracing his face. "Harry, I see you won't answer until we give you some. So, then, who would like to begin?"

There was a lull in the room, until Pansy raised herself up shakily. "I'll do it, Headmaster. But only for Draco," she added quickly, with a glare thrown to Harry for good measure.

And then she started.

* * *

Draco stumbled to the edge of the lake; his wings were dragging behind him, sopping wet and heavy. He fell to his knees, gasping heavily and attempting to grasp at his chest, where what had never become more than heaviness in his heart, like a stone pounding against his upper body, was now several knives, stabbing over and over again… _Harry…_

Was his only thought, as his eyes began to cloud over. But as he looked over the lake's expanse, a solitary tentacle rose from the waters noiselessly, waving almost lazily at him, and almost at the same time a voice rang in his mind.

'**Not here, not yet!'**

Breathing even more raggedly, and with new determination, Draco rose up and staggered towards his only solace; the other, farther side of the lake. The one place covered by so many drooping, evil-looking trees that no students went there, and also because it was sealed off as it was in close proximity to the Forbidden Forest.

_Oh, Gods, yes please._

Draco found himself running suddenly, a loping, uneven pace, clearly saying that he was in a devil take the hindmost moment and that suddenly, as he collapsed at his destination and let vent his emotions, he was very much in pain.

_Dying…_

_Harry, please…_

_Dying had never felt so good…_

And he closed his eyes, crying to himself. As his tears spilled out from his eyes, and he fell into a blissfully unconscious state, Draco's last thought was of the shadow-person.

He didn't dream of him, this time.

* * *

Inside Hogwarts, Harry Potter was facing the window, eyes gone slightly wide. Behind him, several pairs of eyes watched his every move anxiously. 

The black-haired boy raised a hand to cover his eyes.

"He called me Harry before he left," he whispered. Someone took his hand, and he looked over to see Carina Zabini shaking her head.

"He would have called you Harry if he was coming in. Where is he, Harry?"

Shocked again, the Gryffindor could only answer. "When he walked in he—he apologized but I didn't listen, and then he looked at me—"

"Did your eyes meet?" Theodore interrupted.

"Excuse me?"

"Did your eyes meet?" Carleigh repeated for him. "You do remember what we told you, if you make eye contact it's one of the bonding stages."

A small noise escaped Harry's mouth, and the atmosphere became very tense. Suddenly very ashen, and looking as though he were going to be sick, Harry pointed out the window.

"He's—he's out there!"

And suddenly, the world felt much colder than it had before.

* * *

Hello, mein lovely pallys! I am currently dying of homework overload, and Frau Hudson has decided now is the PERFECT time to start writing my autobiography. Sorry, Frau, that after hearing this I exclaimed in the middle of class, "Who the eff is gonna read MY autobiography? I already KNOW what's happening in my life!" Needless to say, Frau did not take it well.  
This whole chapter was conceived (heh, my brain-child) because I had forgotten all about in light of the annual school trip for those who are spending their last year at school, and I was talking to friends, and we had the most interesting conversation.

**Me**: Harry's been acting...ick, in the books, hasn't he?  
**Nikki-chan:** Harry? (Shifts bookbag) I dunno.  
**Solizle (Not her real name, but a variation on it): **You guys are Harry Potter freaks.  
**Scotty-boy: **It's not such a bad book.  
**Kyle The Wild:** I know why Harry's been acting so wierd.  
**Me:** Really! You understand me! I would hug you, but I have a reputation to think of.  
**Solizle:** But it's not a good one, already.  
**Me:** (Ignoring Solizle) Go on, Kyle, explain.  
**Kyle The Wild:** You see, Harry had a Magic Stick, and he could hit once, and he could hit twice, but it broke and he can't hit it anymore so he's gone off to spin Spellotape. In the meanwhile, new, PMS Harry has taken his place.  
**(Silence)  
Me: **Psst, Scott, Soleil, you guys run and Nikki-chan and I will hold him down. Go!  
**Solizle: **(Starts laughing insanely) You're so stupid! It's a book, for God's sake!  
**Nikki-chan: **(Shifts bookbag, then throws it at Kyle) Shut up, both of you. Harry's loss of a Magic Stick is as possible as Harry and Draco getting together. 

And...er, that's kind of it. That's what made me think of this. I know, crazy, but even more so is the fact that Kyle rolled down the hill we were on after the bookbag hit him.

Bonzai to: **Yana5** ( You know, I was actually considering killing Harry off. It would have made me happy. Oh, damn it, my morbid sense of humor has stepped in. Sorry!) **Danish Pastry 28 **(Yes, I understand that it's sad that he carried him crying. I'll tell you a secret: I couldn't type such a sentimental part; that was all Nikki-chan. I did all this chapter, though, even the sad, sobby parts.) **Shania Maxwell, MidnightsRose, Cheezewhizz **(Guess what? I recieved a project today that's due on Monday which is 33 of my grade. And I'm gone all day Sat. And Sun.) **Askura **(You mean it? My fics are good? Because, personally, I hate Objective. It's getting too wacky, and I need to take more time on it, that's why I haven't updated since Napoleon invaded.(Dynamite, I mean, not Bonaparte)) **siriusandharryluvrr (and ron and draco) **(Oh, no big. I understand all about school, you have special permission not to review each and every chapter. But to all of you others: REVIEW, FOOLS, FEED ME! ...Sorry.) **fudgebaby, acr** (Dunno why Ginny had to stay with Draco. Read the bottom note and you'll see.)** themaraudersaremine **(By the way, I forgot to say, yes, I'm a girl. But I'm half girl, half goth, half Maria cookies. But that's just me.And luff to ya, dahling, for remembering my PQ reputation. I have indeed, seized an oppurtunity, as you will see in the note below.) **Saffron** (They're ish-bonded. Ish.)** urufu-misora, Draeconin **(...you actually KNOW what goes on in canon? JK, no, but seriously, I didn't know that. Really? Well, thank the Gods for fandom, then.)** firefairy24** (It's Draco! He will not be Bottom!Draco for long! He will assert his authority somehow! AND it involves a dress...)** fifespice, Abi2** (I suppose you are right, but my teachers hate me ever since I set the teacher's lounge on fire.) **Hoshiko-Malfoy** ('le gasp'! It is ingenious! Ah, but danke v. much!) **miadragonlover, Destiny Entwinements, MagicChic82, lemonkissesxoxo, Master Elora Dannan** (Ahh! You made me laugh! And seeing as I am the only one who usually makes me laugh, or v.v. funny ficlets, this is a very big accomplishment! Applaud yourself! No, seriously, necking each other? May I use that phrase?)

_**READ THIS, EVERYONE! (Even you, Nikki, I know you're out there.)  
**_

Hi.

Ok, so as you know, I have friends of all ages, correct-a-mundo?

Anyways. The point is, one of my friends who is younger than me (although, not by much. But she is shorter.) is having her Bat Mitzvah, and it's spanning two days. HOORAY FOR PARTIES! But the point is, due to uprising topics an such, plus the fact that it involves taking a boat and I'm planning to have a huge surprise for the...er...Bat Mitzvah Girl onboard. She's gonna have a hell of a time ignoring MY prank, seeing as it involves another friend of mine swimming around with a fake shark fin attached to their back when she's swimming in the water.

Ahem.

So, what I am trying to get to is the fact that on Sat&Sun, I won't be able to update, and I just barely managed to do so today because my parents are working and thus the Hitler-Wannabes are not home. Also, no, I don't have a fascination with Nazis and such. I found them to be a sadistic bunch of peoples, and I'm only using them here because I'm crazy like dat.

Which means updates will come in a little late (or a lot, w/e).

Make me update sooner! Review, and quench my thirst for approval!

* * *


	7. Swimming In The Current Of Strife

Disclaimer: Don't even think about it.

* * *

_We lie in the grass, ressurect the past and  
spend time, in perfect conversation  
She smiles, and turns to get,  
her lip gloss and cigarettes  
and of course she checks her cellphone.  
I laugh, cuz nothing's changed  
although our lives went seperate ways  
we'll always have that somethin'.  
She grows tired soon,  
she's half asleep when I make my move but she  
wakes up very quickly, and says to me,  
"When you're down and feeling blue  
I'll be the one hand that guides you.  
And when you're so drunk you can't stand,  
you can crash at my place, my mom, will understand._

-Pop Love- LOONSDALE_  
_

* * *

**Swimming In The Current Of Strife**

**issalee **

* * *

Harry was sitting in the Gryffindor common room now, curled up in one of the chairs and watching the flames in the fireplace. 

His head ached, and although it must have been almost four in the morning, he couldn't sleep. Everyone else was, he was sure, because no matter how worried they were about Draco, he had noticed the sleeping draught Snape had slipped into their drinks when they had stuffed down a small meal. He hadn't taken anything.

Dumbledore had assured them they'd look for Draco all through the night, but the students could do so the next morning, even if it meant missing their classes. Harry bit his lower lip, with that now familiar twinge of guilt hitting him again in waves. Why had he said what he said? Why had he acted that way?

Sure the rivalry between the two boys was fiery, and very much so hateful. But sometime during their—what, fifth year? The fighting had become nothing more than a force of habit; just a quick insult flung at each other, designed perfectly to ignite a temper, force a response, a harsh retaliation. Quite a bit of life ruining was done by both of the boys on either part.

And then there were the minions; Harry's friends, Draco's friends. All of them, so deeply indebted to their leader, all of them so deeply concerned. Harry shivered inwardly. He didn't know where he was, so feverish and ill he was that night he had woken up. And with most of his blood drained, who could blame him? It was all he could do to make sure Ginny had gone to fetch Ron and Hermione before he accepted a calming draught from Madame Pomfrey. And when Dumbledore had come to him, earlier that day after he'd sent everyone off to their dorms, sealing their rooms to make sure no more escapes could be made that night, the Headmaster had explained to him why he wasn't dead.

* * *

"_You have very powerful blood in you, Harry."_

"_I know."_

"_It didn't want you to die, and neither did Master Malfoy."_

_Silence._

"_He has a heart, hard as it is to believe, Harry. I'm not sure if he realized it or not, but as he quenched his thirst, he sent some of his blood to you. Some of his own, Urian and wizard and Vampire mixed blood."_

_Silence._

"_Do you know what this means, Harry Potter? Your blood is never ending, in a way. Should Draco choose to drink, he may do so, and you would never be empty, although the effects of such a thing I have no idea of."_

* * *

He was a goblet. That was how it sounded to him; a never empty, constantly refilling goblet that Draco Malfoy could come and sip from as he chose, never once realizing that every time he did, he set _this_ golden goblet closer and closer to the edge of an imaginary table, closer and closer to the edge of the imaginary sanity holding Harry together. 

Harry swore softly as he hit the arm of the chair. He didn't even _like_ Malfoy. Was it just his "damned Gryffindor courage", in the words of the blond, or was it something more that was sending him on this downward spiral.

The rain outside was getting worse, if possible. Before he'd gone to bed, Ginny, slightly sleep-dazed, had uttered, "I swear, I just saw a thestral drowning just now."

Harry almost tripped over his own feet when he remembered she could see them.

The fire went out quite suddenly, startling Harry not to the fact that it was now very dark, but that he hadn't noticed it was down to embers and a few spurts of flame. Harry sighed, running his fingers through his hair. He needed time to think, actually. And being here in the common room didn't count; all he'd gotten so far was that Malfoy's friends thought he was scum, his life was screwed, and he was being controlled by his worst enemy while the guy didn't even know it.

Harry rolled his eyes at himself. What kind of person didn't exercise control over another? Malfoy certainly had…the old anger flared again, and Harry had to take several calming breaths before he came up with a solution.

He'd think like Hermione.

Sure, it sounded slightly silly now, but as he closed his eyes and started to think about the _bright_ and yet _logical_ side of things, it began to make sense.

He remembered the time he'd been hiding in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom because he was mad at Ron. Stupid, he knew, but the redhead had gone too far, being so upset with everyone and everything that he'd actually accused Harry of working for Voldemort. Of course, it was an empty threat, but it had been in the middle of the war, and Harry wasn't one to let things get off lightly. So while Hermione explained things to Ron, he sat in the bathroom, waiting until Myrtle had slipped down the U-bend before letting his head drop in his lap.

He hadn't heard the door open, so when someone asked him what he was doing, he scrambled to his feet as quickly as possible. Draco was standing over him, the usual superior smirk gone, to be replaced by a woefully miserable expression. The Slytherin hadn't said a word, giving him only a nod before walking back out, glistening dragon-hide boots never touching the puddles on the ground, never getting as sopping wet as Harry's sneakers had been.

Harry blinked. It had taken quite a lot of thinking to drag up that memory…he blushed, and his head drooped at the same time. He really was tired…but he still had quite a lot to think about. Without making a noise, he slid off the chair and padded slowly across the room.

When he opened the portrait hole the Fat Lady merely gave him a sleepy 'harrumph!' before dozing off again. Harry walked down the halls, letting his legs carry him wherever they wanted to go. His mind was on other things, now.

Why was it Draco hadn't pressed further, both in the bathroom and before he'd jumped out of the window? He was _Draco Malfoy_, for Merlin's sake, he didn't ask for things. And yet he hadn't even bothered trying when Harry had refused him. What was it he had done? What sort of power did he have over the blond?

Grinning childishly to himself, Harry pictured Draco bowing down to him, then frowned. Nice as the picture was, it didn't seem right. Harry knew himself well, and because of it knew he wouldn't be able to enslave Draco. Maybe he could release them both from the bond? But no, then Malfoy would die, he would die…everybody dies, dies…

Harry grimaced as he walked down another random staircase. Great, now he was starting to sound like a pop star on crack. Everybody dies, dies? Squinting thoughtfully, Harry decided he could do better than that just as he walked past a tapestry. He stopped, however, as something caught in the corner of his eye.

He walked back and checked it over. Everything seemed perfect, with the edges tucked in neatly and—wait. Harry reached up a hand and lifted up the lower edge, stepping underneath the cloth and onto the other side without thinking. He blinked as he saw the window seat and large, oval window with the rain mocking him from outside. Harry sneered at the rain, reprimanding himself mentally for acting like a Malfoy before settling himself onto the window seat.

The last thing he thought before he dozed off was that maybe, just maybe, he could get used to the whole idea of being Draco's mate if only the blond would explain a few of these mysteries to him.

When Harry woke up, he immediately shaded his eyes as a sliver of sunlight streamed through the window. He sat up and rubbed at his face, peering out of the window in the process. It was small, and unnoticeable from the outside, especially in the rain. Harry suspected a Disillusionment Charm, because as he looked outside he saw Ginny and Blaise talking to Hagrid, and all three glanced back at the castle, directly at the window, and none of them waved before trooping off into the Forbidden Forest.

Yawning, Harry almost leaned back to relax when the reason _why_ exactly he had been there hit him. Feeling slightly panicked, Harry checked the magicked watch he had been given along with his school uniform, and nearly had a hear attack when he saw that it was four in the afternoon.

How _long_ had he been conked out? Had that sleeping draught found its way into something he'd had after all? Ignoring the questions, Harry scrambled off the seat, pushing the tapestry aside quickly as he started running down the hallway, one thought and one thought only running through his mind.

_Gods, Malfoy…I'm so sorry…_

* * *

Draco shivered as he awoke, brushing the rain from his eyes. It really wasn't such a good idea, he decided, to have determined to let himself die in this sort of weather. Maybe if it had been sunny out… 

A cynical smile made its way onto his face as he realized he was plotting his own glorious death. What a morbid sense of humor he had. Keeping as quiet as he possibly could in his severely weakened state; Draco dragged himself farther into the cover provided by the trees.

He stopped and leaned against a tree trunk as a thought struck him.

_By the time Harry found him, if he ever did, he would probably be dead._

Potter wouldn't forget near seven years of torment in a day, unless he had been doing the same thing as Draco had for the past two years or so; pretending, and going along with the flow of the current.

Draco ended up sniffling in a very unmanly way as what he was doing hit him hard and fast. He was going to _die_. He wasn't even seventeen yet! The rain intensified again, and the sun disappeared once more behind storm clouds.

Draco sneezed thrice in quick succession, feeling miserable as well as terrified. When he'd hopped out of the window, everything had made perfect sense. His Urian side was asking—eff that, DEMANDING that he apologize to Harry this minute. Every raw emotion he felt was magnified times ten thousand, and it was killing him. So he resolved to give Harry a choice; it would be over quickly, and everyone would get over the snobby, pretentious brat that was Draco Malfoy soon right?

But he hadn't even had time to explain. Potter had made it quite clear to him from the moment that he stepped into the room that nothing short of lying prostrate on the ground and declaring his undying love for him—in hot red lingerie, of course—would ever have him even consider delaying his rejection, and if he actually did the former it would only be because he'd be in St. Mungo's.

Draco had to crack a smile at the image he'd just conjured up, but it was ruined by another four sneezes. Shivering wretchedly, he wrapped his wings about himself, marveling in the green color that made him feel so much like he was home.

* * *

It was six o'clock, and the search had become frantic. Draco had looked Harry in the eyes at six forty-five of the previous day. Dumbledore had sent out every available teacher and anyone who could be spared to go out and search. Harry had worked himself up enough to go to Seamus, Neville and Dean for help. The three boys had seemed slightly perturbed before Seamus (who was just impossibly _too_ happy) clapped a hand on his back and said they'd be happy to help. 

Every single edge of Hogwarts and even Hogsmeade had been searched. The Forbidden Forest, which stretched on for miles and miles even beyond Hogwarts was being scoured thoroughly by the professors, who had taken along Blaise, Theodore and the Ernestine twins.

Harry held up his wand, crying out "Lumos!" as his watch beeped six-thirty. A series of other lights went up, letting him know where everyone else was. The closest person was actually closer to Hagrid's hut, as were most people.

Harry was near to the point of crying as he ran through the wind and biting rain, fighting his way to the lake's edge. As expected, there was no one there, but a cold idea rushed to him along with a wave of water swept onshore.

Draco…in the lake?

But no, he wouldn't. With a new terror in his heart, Harry took off sprinting again, determined on circling the whole lake by the time he finished.

* * *

Draco woke to a stabbing, blinding pain running up and down his whole body. He whimpered, and a sudden command overtook his thoughts. 

'**Right here, right now!'**

Shielding his eyes against the rain with a wing tip, Draco licked his fangs as he crawled closer to what seemed to be a light in the distance. Right in front of it was a waving tentacle, beckoning him to go under. He followed it, still unsure of what time it was, only wanting in his feverish mind to sleep away the pain racking his body.

He hesitated as the cold water lapped around his body, at first, but then it was all a matter of following the light…

Besides, with his sharpened eyesight (Thank you, Urian) the figure below it looked so much like Harry it was uncanny.

* * *

Harry ran into the cloak at exactly six-forty, cursing loudly as it swept into his face from its position on a tree branch. He stepped back to hex it before he remembered it as the cloak Draco had been wearing as he left. Totally forgetting about his retribution, Harry nearly decapitated himself running towards the Forbidden Forest. He was about to plunge into the leafy undergrowth when a noise stopped him. 

_Splish…splash…plash…_

Whirling around, the green-eyed boy caught a glimpse of green submerging, with a tentacle following soon after.

It was all he needed.

Harry shouted out a random spell and hurled his wand out over the lake, ignoring the red sparks raining from the tip of the wood as he took a running leap and dived into the water.

The time was six forty-three.

* * *

(A/N: …Y'all are such lucky ducks. I decided not to end it here for you.)

* * *

Underwater, Harry lost his glasses quickly, and as he looked desperately about he realized he couldn't see anything in the murky darkness. Nothing but—the huge bulbous eyes of the giant squid, staring unblinkingly back as though reassuring itself he was there before disappearing into the water. Harry opened his mouth to shout a very sarcastic "YEAH, THANKS A LOT!" before he remembered he was underwater, a bit too late. He was forced to go up for air, and when he went down again he dove as deep as he possibly could. 

Harry was starting to feel a bit lightheaded from holding his breath when he saw the flash of green down below.

_My favorite color…_

He grabbed without a second thought, pulling at the wings as though they were ropes until he felt Draco's shoulders. He quickly went a bit lower until he was able to wrap his arms around the other boy's waist, and then he swam for his life.

He broke surface and immediately felt himself being dragged down again by the added weight of Draco's wet wings. Frantically Harry treaded water in an attempt to stay afloat, but it seemed that he was losing, fast.

That is, until he felt something push up and forward on his feet and his back, nearly shooting him and his charge out of the water. Harry hit the ground hard, automatically taking the brunt of the force himself, and in the process knocking all the water from Draco's stomach. Evidence enough was the fact that Draco spit it out all over Harry's shirt.

But the green-eyed boy didn't have time for that now. He glanced back over his shoulder and realized the lights must have been _really_ far away, as no one was even close to him yet. He glanced at his watch and his eyes widened.

The time was six forty-four and twenty seconds.

Harry glanced down at the boy underneath him, still feeling dizzy, and found the golden lashes fluttering open. Mercury orbs pierced his own jade ones, and he smiled faintly.

"Alive, Malfoy? You don't look for a perfect world underwater, idiot."

Draco tried to smirk, but failed miserably. "Sorry, then, Harry."

_Fifteen…_

Harry leaned his head down close enough to peer at Draco's face. "Do you want to be saved, Draco?"

The blonde's breath hitched, although weather it was from the cold or the close proximity he and Harry were in, it was hard to tell.

_Ten…_

"Yes," he said softly, eyes slightly unfocused. Harry hesitated for the merest of moments, before he lowered his head slowly.

_Five…_

"I'm sorry…" the Gryffindor murmured.

_Four…_

Draco stared at him. "What for?"

_Three…_

"I just am."

_Two…_

Draco smiled, before the raven-haired boy captured the other's lips in his own. Harry was surprised to find he didn't mind the kiss so much, especially when he was absolutely melting into the other. Draco opened his mouth a bit wider, and his fangs scraped Harry's lips slightly, before being skillfully used to nibble gently at the other's lips.

A sudden clap of thunder caused the two to draw apart. Draco felt a sort of warmth slide down his back, and he shuddered involuntarily. A similar movement from Harry told him the other boy felt the same way. Both boys, however, now felt strangely sleepy.

Harry rolled off Draco, yawning as the rain softened to normal, I'll-Flood-Your-Home raindrops instead of the Die!-It's-Armageddon ones they had been getting for the past two days.

Draco curled up into a ball, sneezing again and again as soon as the warmth trickled away. Harry groggily wrapped an arm around his waist, his mind too befuddled to make anything of it. He drifted off to sleep, saying, "Bless you," for the nth time and still clutching the also sleeping Draco to him almost protectively.

It was how a grinning Seamus and Ginny found them a few moments later, and although many exclamations were shouted, neither of them awoke.

The students who were still around Hogwarts and had seen the sparks gathered around the lake's edge, waiting for the first of the professors to return. A particularly emotional Pansy and Hermione threw their arms around each other and wailed something about their "psychopathic friends!"

McGonagall was the first to arrive, and as she levitated the two boys to the school with the students chattering and laughing behind her, there was absolutely no tension in the air. It was as though all of the house rivalry had just disappeared.

In his sleep, Harry smiled and tightened his grip.

* * *

Gods. I found myself, after the Bat Mitzvah, sitting knee-deep in homework. Five hours later, I am nearly finished with everything. I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE BUSY TODAY! But NOOOOOO today everyone has to do homework! Sigh. Well, it's good for you, eh? It means I can send this out early. I spent about an hour typing this (and alternately chewing out Nikki-chan on a cell-phone for missing the damn service. I don't understand Hebrew, for Godric's sake!) so I hope it proves pleasing.

Nyah...so very sad and such. Why is everything so sentimental? I put this under Humor didn't I? What is wrong with me, can I read or what? 

And I am a genius, certified prankster, and for some umknown reason my teachers don't like me. I must stop referring to them as Frau and Oberfuher, it tends to slip into my actual speaking. Calling the principal a Nazi Sadist when you think you're writing it down isn't nearly as funny as it could be. It also means this week will be spent in lunch detention...nyah...

Can I tell you all a secret? I was going to kill Draco off, because I was in a bad mood from the whole detention thing. And now, I have not. Why? 

_Nikki-chan: Because, stupid, you called me and told me of your dilemma. That is why, at seven o'clock, I am sitting in your basement eating Doritos and beta-ing this for you. We all love you, Fluffly, don't we?_

Thanks and such...ah, there's still tomorrow, eh?

Bonzai and luff to:** Danish Pastry 28 **(Methinks Harry's fun without his brain. Thy words, though, strike a cord. Sorry, studying Shakespeare now.) **xxaishiteru** (Ah, don't worry, Draco wasn't sure about what he was doing. Mayhaps he has lost his brain along with Draco? **Cheezewizz** (Yeah, Idiot!Harry takes a devil of a time writing. But he will be Smart!Harry soon!) **Shania Maxwell, acr** (I LUFF U! No, sorry for the outburst, but the critiscm was sorely needed! I was getting v.v. upset that I hated my chapters, and I couldn't figure out why. But you told it to me! And now I hope I answered more of your questions in this chapter, along with giving you an insight into the seperate, riddling minds of Harry and Draco. With only Nikki-chan to and Eelie to beta me, it gets sort of hard, especially seeing as Eelie is constantly shuffling about the planet and Nikki-chan hates sitting still long enough to correct this. And before you say anything, I realize Harry was a bit OOC, and maybe even Draco too, but all will be explained...) **Griffonfether0, Yana5, SerenityMelody, Destiny Entwinements (**Yo, where's ma cookie, homedog? (loud SMACK!) Thanks, Nikki-chan. Anyways, I understand how you feel about the rain. It was raining here a couple of days ago, but I skipped down the hill to school and got reprimanded for dripping in homeroom. ?) **Abi2** (Heh, interesting stories...I seem to have a lot of those...not all of them am I particularly proud of) **firefairy42** (Do you _want_ MPREG? You seem a bit ecstatic...tell you what, I'll ask you peoples next chapter, after discussing it with a few friends...) **yea, Anonymous Ferret of DOOM** (Is that how you spell anona-whatever? Gods, I hate that word.) **Master Elora Dannan** ((Smiles Sheepishly) Yeah, thanks for catching that. Thing is, my friends and I were also stuck belieivng that in every common room you had to climb a set of stairs to reach the common room and then another for the dormortories. Besides, doesn't it seem like just The Dungeons for the Slyths is a bit predictable?) **Dreaming-Sensations, MidnightsRose, Hoshiko-Malfoy.**  



	8. Dying In A Rush Of Passion Makes It Bett

**Author's Rambling (And Actual Important Note, Ooh):**

Me: Ahh! Ahh! Stop! Ok. Hello, all mine loverly palleies and such. Now, Nikki-chan and I were talking--

_Nikki-chan: Fighting,_

Me: BIH, B. Anyways, the point is, we just wanted to know how many guys are out there and reading this. Leave it in a review or...something...I don't know, and I STILL have to find a new e-mail address. One not EVERYONE knows the password to.

_Nikki-chan: Oh, for God's sake, I said I was SORRY!

* * *

_ Disclaimer: Smile for the Birdy! It's saying something? Can you hear it? "…Eff off, ya damn perverts. I am showering." 

Hmph. I thought it was funny…by the way, I don't own it.

* * *

_Vindicated  
I am selfish, I am wrong  
I am right, I swear I'm right  
I swear I knew it all along  
And I am  
flawed  
But I am cleaning up so well  
And I am seeing in me now the things you  
Swore you saw yourself _

-Vindicated- Dashboard Confessional (Put here cuz it's my fav song.)

* * *

**Dying In a Rush Of Passion Makes It Better**

**issalee **

* * *

Harry frowned. 

He was sitting in the Hospital Wing, flexing his limbs after having woken up. Next to him was another bed, upon which a feverish looking Draco Malfoy was mumbling slightly. Every few moments or so, he could catch a few words coming from the Slytherin's mouth, such as his name, and several apologies.

At the moment there was no one inside. When he had awoken, it was just in time to hear the double-doors shutting, suggesting that Madame Pomfrey had left for a probably much-needed break. Surrounding him and Draco were several get-well presents, and even a basket filled with a few things from Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Harry didn't touch it, as he suspected Ron may have taken advantage of his status as the brother of the proprietors, and might have smuggled in a few—unsafe things.

The Gryffindor shook his head to get rid of the distracting thoughts, and got back to the matter at hand which he was hankering to mull over: he'd willingly kissed Draco Malfoy.

It didn't bother him that it was a boy; he'd known for quite a long time, and the fact that Hermione and even _Ron_ had known before him made him blush even now. He was absolutely _horrid_ at hiding such things, which would probably explain why the whole of Gryffindor and a few Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs hadn't been surprised when a rumor had been spread about it.

What annoyed him to the point of near insanity was the fact that it was _Malfoy_!

…MALFOY?

Of all the—

Harry blushed an even brighter shade of red as he buried his head in his arms, remembering the kiss from—when had it been, the night before? It felt like ages and ages had passed by.

A sneeze came from the bed beside him, and before he could check himself Harry looked over worriedly to see what was going on.

And found a pair of slightly glazed gray eyes staring back at him.

"Funny, real funny," he muttered, as a smirk graced the features of the blonde at the look of surprise of Harry's face.

"Oh," Draco said, voice catching slightly. "You have no _idea_."

There was a moment of silence between them before Harry spoke up again. "How're you feeling? Madame Pomfrey left a few moments ago…if you want I could go find her…"

Draco snorted, but didn't say a word. Harry didn't miss the fact that there was still red tingeing his cheeks.

"You're really sick." He said solemnly.

Draco looked over at him incredulously. "I spent a day in the pouring rain. You've got to fucking with me if you think I wouldn't get sick."

"Er…" Harry blushed even more deeply, and was horrified when Draco looked at him with amusement evident on his face.

"You really didn't think of it?"

"I was…sort of busy trying…to get you out of the water…and…that's it." Harry finished lamely. Draco shook his head.

"Yeah, sure, but it was _after_ that I'm talking about. I was sneezing as though Id just sniffed a whole bottle of pepper!"

Harry thought that was a bit unfair; miffed, he replied curtly. "Well, you know when you're getting kissed the way I was you can't help but not notice little things like that." The green eyes glittered dangerously before widening comically as the Gryffindor covered his mouth with a small 'oh'.

Draco cocked an eyebrow, sitting up in bed with a small wince. "Getting kissed the way you were? Excuse me, can I take that as a compliment?"

Harry, too mortified to answer, starting banging the palm of his hand against his head. He groaned as he hit himself with a predominantly hard one, and then let the hand down. Draco was watching him with some unreadable emotion. Harry just barely noticed the fact that two of the iron railings behind him had been slightly indented before the blonde shifted it, blocking them.

"Don't go killing yourself over me, Potter."

Harry shook of the curious feeling he was getting. "So it's back to Potter now? Whatever happened to 'Harry'?"

Draco didn't miss the thinly veiled jibe. "Shut up."

"Make me."

"I would if I could."

"Meaning you can't?"

"No." Then, after a moment's hesitation: "Because I won't." The Slytherin flipped over to his other side and refused to acknowledge the presence of the boy beside him.

Harry eyed Draco's back curiously, before a wide grin split his face.

_Well, now, it seemed like_ he _was not the only one with doubts_.

Harry turned over and lifted the covers over his head, feeling slightly victorious as he drifted off to sleep. He didn't wake up for quite a while, even when Madame Pomfrey returned along with several students in tow.

Life, for once, was put on hold.

* * *

When Harry awoke again, this time he found it to be extremely early morning, around five he guessed. Draco was still next to him, and still sleeping. Harry studied the way the Slytherin's hair spilled about his face, as though it were a halo, but only for a moment. 

Immediately after, his stomach decided to complain and it growled in protest. Sighing, Harry slipped out of the bed, running fingers through hair he was sure had gone wild by now. He let a hand automatically go towards his dresser, expecting his glasses, but found none.

_Oh._

If he wanted his glasses now, he'd have to swim down to the bottom of the lake. Ruffling his hair in an even more annoyed stint, Harry growled under his breath as he cast about for clothes. He was about to go mad with frustration when he found a small basket, tucked neatly away from the others. In Hermione's bold script was written:

_**Dear Harry, I thought you might need this. Love much, Hermione**_

Harry peered into the basket and was gratified to see a pair of trousers and a shirt at the bottom. He pulled out the black slacks and slid into the black t-shirt (bearing a Vans decal) marveling at how well Hermione knew him. He grinned, thinking that if it weren't for his choice in people, he'd definitely have married Hermione quite a while back. Plus, Ron would kill him.

He started as Draco turned over, muttering and still a little feverish. Harry hesitated only a moment before crossing over to the other bed. He smoothed back some of the hair that was cascading into Draco's face, and grabbed the rubber band he'd seen on the stand next to the bed, tying back the silky white-blonde hair with it.

"That, Malfoy, was just because of my damn Gryffindor sympathy." Harry whispered it, then turned and slowly tiptoed out of the room. Behind him, Draco let a grateful smile flit across his face before falling back asleep.

* * *

Harry crept round the hallways carefully, unsure whether or not he wanted to meet any professors yet. Thankfully, he made it to the kitchens without incident. As soon as he tickled the pear, though, he was all but dragged inside. 

"Harry Potter sir! Dobby is glad to be seeing you is alive! Pomp-pee would not let Dobby in, even when Dobby says he is friend of Harry Potter sir."

Harry blinked, trying his best to see clearly at the small creature sitting on his chest. Dobby was a little blurred around the edges, but it was nothing as bad as when Harry had first gotten his glasses. Frowning slightly at that, he sat up.

"Er…thanks, Dobby. I'll tell Madame Pomfrey to let you in later. Do you have any food I could have?"

"Oh, anything for Harry Potter sir!" Dobby exclaimed. "Would Harry Potter like it brought to Hospital Wing?"

"No thanks." Harry replied, shaking his head. "I'll carry it myself." As Dobby bowed and went off to get the food, Harry held up a hand.

"Wait. Dobby…do you have…strawberries?"

* * *

Draco woke up almost an hour later, blinking blearily as he attempted to sort out his surroundings. He'd a most nauseating dream the other night—Lucius had been coming after him, and his mother's body was lying behind him, still. 

Shivering slightly, Draco rubbed at his eyes and sat up.

"Finally, Malfoy, I was starting to wonder how long it was going to take you to wake up. I made a lot of noise when I walked in."

The blonde's head turned slowly until he was staring straight into the jade-green eyes. "What?"

Harry was sitting on his bed, eating one of the chocolate frogs Ginny had left for him. He pointed to the foot of Draco's bed, where he had left a tray. On it, there was a mound of strawberries and whipped cream. (A/N: Anyone else with naughty thoughts now?)

"I think I'd rather if you didn't latch onto me for a while now, and Parkinson explained a couple of things so…yeah." Harry said carefully.

Draco didn't say a word. He leaned down, picked up one of the strawberries and popped it into his mouth, chewing experimentally. A moment later, a lopsided grin that, for some odd reason made Harry beam appeared on his face.

"It tastes like heaven."

Harry smiled again. "Nice to know. Toss me one? I just had a sandwich earlier on…" He caught the one Draco had thrown, grimacing as whipped cream stuck to his fingers. "Oh, yuck."

"You didn't ask me to clean it off for you." Draco replied, licking the cream from his own fingers. Harry tore his eyes away from the blonde's actions and ate the berry, chewing thoughtfully.

"So, does this mean you can only eat food I would probably never get tired of?"

Draco stopped eating, but only for a moment as he shrugged. "I guess so."

Harry turned to face him. "You know that's not my favorite food, right? I have another one…that, surprisingly, no one knows about. And no, I'm not telling you."

Draco sulked. "You'd think I'd have a right to know, seeing as it's going to end up being the only thing I can eat for a while."

"No."

Draco looked surprised. "Are you kidding? Potter, you're a malevolent, sadistic, son of a—"

"I'm taking away your strawberries if you finish that sentence badly." Harry flipped the card he had been reading to the other side.

"—Wonderful woman whom I would have given anything I own to meet."

Harry nodded, and Draco growled. "Since when have you been so much like a Slytherin, Potter? I thought you were supposed to be _nice_."

"I was nice." Harry brushed a few strands of hair from his face. "But that was quite a while ago." He uncrossed his legs and jumped off the bed, walking over to sit on the edge of Draco's with absolutely no hesitation. Draco stared.

"What's wrong with you? Where's Harry Potter?"

Harry shrugged. "I'm not a morning person. Give me a strawberry." Draco, however, snatched the bowl and held it behind his back, sneering at the other boy.

"Over my dead body."

Famous last words.

In a moment the two boys were tussling for the bright red fruit in seconds. Draco grabbed one of Harry's wrists, pinning it down with a shoulder while the former gripped one of his own wrists and pinned it behind his own head. Draco bared his fangs, snapping them at Harry, who drew back. The Slytherin took this opportunity to push Harry off him and grab for the bowl, which, unfortunately, tipped over.

Harry let out a dismayed little noise as most of it hit his face, and the rest of the strawberries fell onto the ground. Recovering his composure quite quickly, the green-eyed boy growled ferociously and lunged forward, pushing Draco back down. It was during this move that both boys caught a glimpse of red in the tangled bed sheets. One glance was exchanged, and then it was all for one as they both reached for it.

A moment later, Draco was straddling Harry's waist triumphantly, but sadly, with no strawberry in sight. Leaning down, he flicked a lock of hair from his eyes and tried to regain as much of a menacing figure as he could.

"Do you have the fruit, Potter?"

Harry shook his head, no.

"Don't lie. Where is it?"

Another shake of the head.

Frustrated, Draco was about to get off when a sudden thought struck him. A slow smile spread over his features. "Open your mouth, Potter."

Harry's eyes widened almost foolishly, and he tried to shake his head again, but Draco was suddenly _way_ too close. "Please…_Harry_." Harry stared, transfixed by the sudden gentle Draco that had appeared.

Draco, in the meanwhile, was having quite a few revelations of his own. With whipped cream on one side of his face, and a hidden treasure in his mouth…well, this was certainly appealing.

He closed the distance between them quickly giving Harry only a gentle kiss before he went on to licking the Gryffindor's cheek, where the cream remained. Harry shivered at the gentle caress, and Draco ceased his administrations.

"Give me the strawberry?"

Harry was still dazed, but he managed a firm but muffled decline. It was all he could do not to cry out as Draco's lips crashed against his once more, soliciting a gasp from the surprised Gryffindor.

With Harry's mouth open, Draco's tongue very quickly and skillfully found the fruit, but he soon forgot it as something even better joined him—Harry. The Boy-Who-Hated-To-Stand-Down was kissing back, fiercely, as though he'd never get such a chance again. Fire ignited in the veins of them both, propelling Draco to let his tongue swing almost lazily round Harry's mouth, until the other responded with an equally enthusiastic moan that sent shivers up Draco's spine. Unbeknownst to them both, the strawberry was now gone and done, having been swallowed by them both during their arduous activities. Not like either of them cared.

Harry wrapped his arms around Draco's waist, straining to get closer as the other boy continued his heated kisses. The blonde let out a gasp of his own that quickly turned into a moan; Harry had found the fangs, and his tongue was becoming greatly enamored with them.

But then, they both vaguely heard the door open, and a voice saying quietly "I don't suppose they're awake yet…" Both of them leapt apart as though scalded. Harry only had just enough sense (of direction, he'd just been snogged rather thoroughly) to cast a quick Scourgify to get rid of the whipped cream before he fell into his bed.

Draco, equally as mortified, moaned as he buried himself into the sheets. What had he just _done_? Harry was having similar thoughts; apparently, as he covered his face with a pillow and a muffled screaming noise could be heard coming from it.

"You're awake!" A voice cried, and Harry felt his bed being jostled. He fell off with a loud _Thunk!_ Opening his eyes and trying to see out from the mess of sheets, he saw Ginny peering over the edge, looking quite sheepish.

"Oh, sorry Harry. I was excited, you know." Harry waved it off as he stood up.

"No, no problem, Gin." The green-eyed boy stumbled in the still darkened Hospital room (it was only six, remember) and landed back on the bed, thankful that because of the lack of light they couldn't see his flushed and mussed face. He could see a gaggle of others beyond the redheaded girl, and smiled.

"Brought the school with you, Gin?"

Someone abruptly broke off from the group, and Harry recognized it as Blaise. This was only because said figure jumped onto Draco's bed, and hugged the thoroughly wrapped blonde quite hard.

"Draco! It's me, Blaise! Are you alive?"

There was a long pause, followed by the next few words. "Blaise…can't…breathe…"

_Oh._

The dark-haired Slytherin clambered off the bed, scratching at his head as he did so. "Eh…you were missed. A lot."

"I can see that." The blonde complained. "But you didn't have to be so damn obvious about it." He unwrapped himself from the sheets and emerged scowling.

"Why are you all here so early?"

Pansy quite suddenly latched onto him, crying rivers. Shocked, Draco looked down at her. "What? What is it?"

"I—I—I was so w-worried, we all thought you were d-d-dead!" She sniffed, and Draco eyed her with pure disgust before she suddenly drew herself off him, eyes shining with unshed tears but otherwise composed.

"I'm sorry about that, but you gave us such a scare! What were you thinking?"

Harry was only half-listening to the Slytherins. Ron had been telling him about how Seamus had almost killed Dean over dinner the previous day, when they had been arguing over something and Dean had muttered the words "Irish" and "Idiots" in the same sentence. But as soon as Pansy voiced the question, Harry perked up and motioned for his friends to listen in.

Draco looked extremely uncomfortable with the whole thing, actually. "Er—it wasn't for any reasons, Pans, it was just—hem…pity?"

Harry's snort of laughter was loud enough to be heard by all. Draco glowered at him. "And what, may I ask, is so funny about the whole situation?"

Harry chuckled. "When you said pity, Malfoy, were you talking about pitying me for staying with you? Or was there something else in that sentence you left out?"

There was a long, pregnant pause. Draco quite literally couldn't believe his ears, until he pinched himself to shake the stupor off him. Then, he was furious. "I can't believe you! After—after all that—" He stopped, and then started again, advancing slowly so that he was mere inches away from Harry's face. "You know what, Potter? You can just go fuck yourself."

Had Draco been a little more grounded, he would have noticed his gut's instinctive tightening right there, but he wasn't. Harry's eyes narrowed dangerously, and he glared right back. Their previous actions had obviously been very much forgotten, no matter how heated the moment was.

"I fucking hate you, Malfoy."

Draco opened his mouth, possibly for another insult, but it never came. He was suddenly very, very cold, and then he stiffened. Harry looked at him queerly, but then his expression became one of concern as Draco flew back, hitting his bed with an expression of pure agony on his face.

"Oh, Gods. Rejection." Hermione was rooted to the spot in fear, as was everyone else but Harry. He was abruptly at Draco's side, checking the other's vitals.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I'm so very, very sorry."

Draco grasped for the edges of the bed, attempting to pull himself up, but his consciousness was rapidly fading. "S'okay…" he kept saying, "S'okay."

The clicking of footsteps told them someone had gone to fetch Madame Pomfrey, and then suddenly everyone was clamoring.

Somewhere in the recesses of Draco's mind, his Urian side was telling him it was ok to regain consciousness now. But his normal side protested, saying that maybe, just maybe he wouldn't mind spending an extra day in the Hospital Wing, if only he could revel in these few moments where Harry was worried about him, and attempting to help him.

"I'm sorry." Harry said again.

This time, Draco didn't say anything, instead choosing to study the fringe of Harry's hair until the black of the hair faded into the black of his mind.

* * *

Quite depressed today. Boat ride was actually not so much fun, although prank was wonderous. Am also very dissapointed with Smith's attempts at lunc detention. I brougth a Gravi manga with me and read it under the table while the teacher overseeing the detention kept an eye on the boys who were playing around with something. An animal of sorts, methinks.  


Today was Health. Health class is good and all, and usually works for itself, but toay it needed a bit of livening up...and so when teacher Wright said we could tell her anything, anything at all, Nikki-chan and I raised our hands simulataneously. Nikki got called first. Her answer is thus:  


"Yaoi turns me on."

I should probably just post this now, instead of listening to Vindicated on repeat and laughing about that moment over and over again. Ah, me. 

Bonzai and lots of luff to: DestinyEntwinements, Shania Maxwell, Danish Pastry 28 (No? An epidemic of Shakespeare? I swear, school has gotten into everything these days, now it's managed to infiltrate our brains.) Anonymous Ferret of DOOM, Abi2, Askura, Yana-5, Dreaming-Sensations, MagicChic82 (Yep, here's your Double Fudge Triple Mocha Oatmeal Raisin Pumpkin Chocolate Chip and Vanilla Butterscotch cookie!) MidnightsRose (Ah, tired, methinks.) Shinna, xxaishiteru, Master Elora Dannan (Just a whole bed? No, the Hospital Wing is actually named the Harry Potter Wing of Terror, just cuz he liked it that way. He thought it made him feel much better than Lord Harry's Wing of Terror. Nyah...my humor's all gone.) SomethingCorporate (Yah, yah, Draco's dominant as what, but I LUFF Somthing Corporate. What a band, what a band.) firefairy42 (English? Well...I suppose you could say that, yeah...I spend enough time...so yes! Why, are you?)  



	9. The Honorary GlitterFilled Chapter

Disclaimer: You get your disclaimer when I get mine.

Bush: I DO NOT RULE THE WORLD. (Points to me) SHE DOES.

Me: Very good. Now, my first action as ruler shall be to ban all disclaimers. SO HAH, I BEAT YOU! Ye art shunned, disclaimether.

* * *

_Please note that as bedrooms are not proper areas to use guests of the opposite sex, the lobby is better suited for this purpose._

_-_On A Hotel Sign, mistranslation, in Japan-

* * *

**The Honorary Glitter-Filled Chapter**

**issalee **

* * *

Hermione trudged up the stairs, sniffing lightly as she fell upon Ginny's bed in the girl's dorms. She let her brown hair fan out across her face as she tried desperately to ignore the yelling from below. 

"…Stop…NO!"

"…Didn't say…approve…not bad…MALFOY?"

"…Draco…don't…leave…Hospital…"

And then the words she'd been hearing most often, usually said by a now unusually silenced green-eyed boy. Not shouted, but spoken calmly, and yet in the calmness of the late evening it floated up quite clearly for her to hear.

"He hates me."

Hermione shivered through the cover she'd crawled under. A week of self-denial and Harry was already starting to scare her. Draco had woken up only three hours after passing out, but had for some reason refused to speak to Harry, as well as any of the Gryffindors.

As the sound of a far off dormitory door slammed, Hermione sighed and tried to pretend she didn't know what would happen. She didn't know Ron was going to stand in the common room, red as a beet and fuming until he turned tail and stalked out of the common room. She didn't know Ginny would quietly retreat to the darkest recesses of the library and think about the past, those sinister times, or go speak to Blaise.

And she, Hermione, would be left to muse over this problem in all her spare time; the one equation she couldn't solve.

She'd found herself scribbling it down on a scrap of paper when Seamus had been talking to Neville about it, and she'd overheard him say it.

Harry Potter + Draco Malfoy True (Enough) Love.

Smiling lightly, Hermione tapped the side of her head. The brains in there were sure to get a workout this year, and she wasn't saying _anything_ about NEWTS.

* * *

"Oh, God, Malfoy, go die." 

"Ok."

Theodore exchanged a look with Pansy and nodded. The brunette tried out her hand. "Oh, Drakey-poo, I LOOOOOOOOOVE YOU!" She threw herself prostrate at the boy's feet, wincing a little as she hit the ground.

No explosion came, just a queer look that soon disappeared.

"Ok."

Theodore growled. "You know, now I'm starting to wish he really would go die." Pansy let a small smile flit across her face, but Draco, curled up like a cat on the couch, said nothing.

The section of wall hiding the Slytherin common rooms slid open, and Carleigh and Chloris stepped through. Theodore offered them a wave, which they returned.

"Any luck yet?" Carleigh asked, glancing over at the blonde. Chloris only looked at the Slytherin Head Boy, before hiding a smile behind her hands.

"None. But we got him to put whatever spell it is he's using on his fangs to cover them up. At least on Monday he's starting classes again." Pansy answered, rapping lightly on the side of Draco's chair, never daring to actually touch the boy.

There was a moment of silence, before Chloris shrugged. "I've got to go find something. A book. Maybe I'll see you later?" And she walked away. Everyone watched her go, and Draco's eyes became clear and focused. He growled.

"Expire, puerile and infantile justification intended for a child."

Pansy half-gaped, half-grinned at the soft accusation, while Theodore clapped loudly. Carleigh looked back at her twin sister, shocked, until Chloris smirked triumphantly, clasping her hands innocently as she explained.

"Anger is the one thing that gets through to him."

"A wonder he hasn't killed anyone, yet." Theo commented lightly. Draco rolled his eyes, and then sighed.

"We're Slytherins, right?" He waited until they all nodded. "Slytherins don't back down. We aren't submissive. We're cunning, sly, and never the losers, no matter what it takes. Are we in agreement?"

No hesitation came before the round of nods. Draco smiled thinly.

"Very good."

* * *

The next day, Ginny giggled as she scooted back against the windowsill. She was sitting on one of the high ones, just across from the Great Hall. Blaise was lying next to her, making several brightly colored objects pop up next to him every few seconds or so. Ginny turned to him, brown eyes solemn. 

"We've got the water ones?"

He nodded, poking the water balloon next to him, sea-blue eyes twinkling good-naturedly. "Yep. They'll never know what hit 'em."

"And the special ones? They are coming down for a late breakfast, right? Only Theo knows for Draco…" Ginny fretted again. Blaise was quick to reassure her she was right, but Ginny began chewing on a lock of her hair thoughtfully.

"Mayhaps we should just knock them out and stuff them in Hagrid's hut for a few days?" She missed Blaise's lips curving into a smile, but he stifled it quickly and said as seriously as he could:

"Yes, I suppose we could. But Ginny, then we'd have to elope before the suggested date, as our imminent deaths would be soon in arriving."

Ginny shoved him, scowling. "Sod off."

"Your acumen surprises me, Ginevra." Blaise just narrowly avoided dying by the arrival of a chattering group of people; Harry, Seamus, Neville, Dean and Ron were walking down the hallway.

"…I swear, Harry, if we get breakfast early it'll be good for you! You'll have time to build a _whole_ volcano this time!"

"Seamus, shut up, I didn't realize it was taking shape till Ron ate it."

Ginny stifled a laugh as she noticed that everyone except Harry was slowing down. The Boy-Who-Is-Oblivious, however, didn't until it was too late.

"Guys? Why're we—"

"Bonzai, 'Arry Potter!" Blaise called, and sent the water balloons zooming with his wand. They landed with loud _plash_ing noises, and Blaise suppressed a smile as he saw Harry pull his sopping wet robes up, suddenly furious and waving his fist.

"You're about to die, Zabini! I'll kill you, so help me Merlin I will!" He took out his wand but Blaise was saved by Ginny, who stuck her head out.

"I'm sorry, Harry, but remember we still love you!" She spirited the 'special' balloons out over Harry's head, watching them fall and hit the Gryffindor just as Draco and Co. rounded the corner.

All went silent as Harry Potter, the Wizarding World's savior, held up a damp hand. It was—_shining_, of all things, and Harry slowly turned to look up at the window.

"What," he said quietly. "What may I ask, called for _glitter_?"

Harry raised his wand and shouted a spell, watching in grim satisfaction as the remnants of green and silver glitter collected with the water and split into two, hitting both Blaise and Ginny as well as Seamus, Ron and Neville.

The groups (Blaise and Ginny jumping down from the window) sputtered and knocked into each other, attempting to find their way around while Harry grinned, flipped his wand idly and then stuck it back into his robes. He turned, ready to walk away, but was stopped by the cold mercury orbs staring back at him.

"Potter."

_M—m—m…_

Harry couldn't bring himself to say it, and Draco saw that. He cocked his head to the side, his gaze boring a hole into Harry's own. "What's the matter, Potter? Ferret got your tongue?"

Harry blushed at the subtle implication to their kiss a week before. "I'm just fine." He said finally. "Are you feeling any better? I truly am sorry, I—"

"Shut it, Potter." Harry winced and Draco felt the knife start twisting in his stomach, but he steeled himself from the pain. "I don't need apologies from you."

"W—w—hat?" Harry stuttered. Draco leaned closer to him.

"You heard me," he said softly. "I don't need you. I've been living just fine without you, why should I suddenly need you now?"

Harry's eyes narrowed. "I was just trying to _help_!" He said venomously.

"Well, don't."

Gripping his knuckles and still replaying the events of their last fight in his mind, Harry kept his voice down. "You're just too proud to accept it, Malfoy." Slowly, tauntingly, he dragged out the last few words. "You can't live without me."

Draco nearly lunged at him, swaying on his toes in the end. "Potter, you have no idea what you mean."

"You know what, _Malfoy_?" Harry sneered. "Maybe you're the one with no idea."

Behind Draco, Pansy had been biting her lip and twisting a strand of her dark hair around a finger. At Harry's last comment, though, Pansy's eyes flared and she took on an ugly face.

"Potter, do shut up." She snapped, shocking everyone there. "This is beginning to become like some sort of game to you, isn't it? Sidestep Draco, walk away, come back and claim you're sorry—then do it again, having him come near to death every day!"

Draco had a smug look on his face as Pansy had been talking, but then she suddenly whirled on him, jabbing and accusing finger. "And _you_!"

"Me?" Draco asked, bewildered. Behind him, Theo and Carleigh snickered.

"Yes, you!" Pansy threw her hands up in exasperation. "I'd like to know something, Draco. When you refused to talk to us, what did you think that would solve? Are you crazy? We were worried sick, and the most you could say was O-Freaking-K!"

"Potter!" She said, turning back to the slightly amused Harry. "Where's Granger?" At his guilty look, a condescending smile appeared on her face. "You SEE? She's run off, just like _I_ should be doing! GODS, am I a GOOD FRIEND or WHAT?"

She suddenly took off down the hall, muttering angrily as she stalked in the general (and very vague) direction of the library, with absolute silence behind her.

Then, "She's right you know."

Harry turned to see a red-faced Ron still trying his best to take the sticky combination of glitter and water off his face. "Harry, you're my best mate and everything but you have been driving us all a bit batty with this. I'm gonna go find Hermione."

Seamus' lips quirked in a smile and he feigned (rather badly, too) innocence as he grabbed hold of Neville's and Dean's arms. "Well, sorry mate, but we have prior appointments holding us up."

"Like what?" Harry demanded as Seamus began dragging the two protesting boys down the hallway. "LIKE WHAT, FINNEGAN!"

Seamus only looked back once. "Oh, girls, maybe a few guys, whipped cream," he said, soliciting a blush from Harry. "That sort of thing! Maybe a little bit of chocolate too! See ya!"

"FINNEGAN!" Harry roared.

"I can't hear you!"

Panting a little and furious, Harry whirled around to say something, but suddenly found Draco was in the same position as he. Blaise had linked arms with Ginny and was bowing.

"My fair Slytherin Prince, ruler of all that is evil and pointless and such and so on and so forth, etc… The Lady Ginevra and I have an extremely important engagement to uphold which we absolutely cannot miss!"

"What engagement?" Draco asked, more than a little ticked off.

Blaise blinked owlishly. "Your Highness, didn't you hear me? An ENGAGEMENT. Oh, I'm sorry, you didn't get your invite? That—"

Ginny smacked Blaise upside the head and glared at Draco. "What he _means_ to say is that we have a chess game."

"Still?" Draco said, eyes widening.

"He keeps beating me." Ginny sulked.

"I keep beating her." Blaise gloated.

They exchanged an odd look before Ginny rolled her eyes and started off down the hall, taking Blaise with her and ignoring Draco's indignant noise from behind her. Theodore looked at his friend and sighed.

"See now, Drakey-poo-face? This is what happens when you let your friends screw with your love life. This is why I've never, _ever_ let slip whom I'm dating to any of you." He turned, as though about to leave, but then looked over his shoulder. "Oh, and by the way—today's a Saturday. Spend it wisely!"

Draco gaped at his friend, before letting his mouth shut with a small clacking sound. He very, very slowly, circled to face Harry. "Well?" He said, suddenly weary. "Can you just gloat so I can go?"

Harry looked surprised. "You would think, Malfoy, that it would be you."

Draco winced. "Don't call me Malfoy."

"Why?" Harry asked, genuinely curious. "I've always called you Malfoy, Malfoy."

Draco winced again. "It's not me," he said, through gritted teeth. "But this damned Urian side of me is getting pretty upset."

_Oh._

The-Boy-Who-Is-Schizo-Pyscho immediately took a step forward, pressing a hand to Draco's abdomen, eyes shining with worry and all previous anger forgotten.

"Does it hurt here?" he asked, misinterpreting Draco's gasp.

The blonde's eyes were almost comically wide at Harry's sudden motion. He unconsciously leaned closer before pulling back sharply, causing Harry to jerk his hand away. Draco's eyes narrowed as his sense came back to him.

"Don't touch me again, Potter," he hissed, and nearly fell over as a fresh barrage of pain assaulted his defenses, which had been let down for the briefest of moments. Harry looked taken aback before the same cynical look he'd had on his face before came back.

"Malfoy, you snobby, arrogant prick! Why can't you just accept that someone wants to help you for once! I didn't ask for this either, you know!"

Draco took a step back, nearly in agony from the hurt that was all over his body now, all because Harry was mad at him, Harry was angry and shouting at him. Harry had just taken a step towards him.

"Malfoy, what I want you to do is to stop and listen for one day, and listen good, ok? I DON'T HATE YOU. I hate things about you, but that's it! You're such a pompous, snotty brat at times, but I know you have a heart, Ginny wouldn't have become friends with you otherwise, I'm sure."

Draco stumbled as he fell to his knees, whimpering slightly, but Harry didn't seem to notice as he kept on his rant, hair now wonderfully mussed and eyes sparkling with rage. The glitter was only adding to the effect, making it seem as if Harry was shining, and his clothes were now only slightly damp.

"Malfoy, I realize you don't want this, and neither do I."

Ouch. That one hurt, and Draco's eyes widened at the zing of pain that shot through his stomach. He clutched at it, one hand on the floor as he panted heavily, attempting to stave off the pain. Harry noticed this (GODS, FINALLY) and dropped to his side, worried again.

"Oh, damn it all." He breathed, and without really thinking, he pushed Draco against the wall and forced his hand underneath the silken black shirt, prodding lightly at the skin underneath. Draco's breath hitched, both from the force of the impact and the intimate touch of Harry's lightly caressing fingers.

"Does it hurt here?" The Gryffindor asked again softly, eyes still on the expanse of pale skin he was finding it hard not to become infatuated with.

Draco didn't answer, and when Harry looked up he only caught a bit of that intense mercury gaze before he was suddenly preoccupied with something else—Draco's lips on his own.

This time the kiss was intense, with Draco's tongue demanding entry almost immediately. Harry let it in willingly, searching with his own for the fangs (the spell had, for some reason, faded off) he was starting to love. Lightly, Draco nibbled on Harry's lower lip, grazing it softly with his fangs.

"Draco…" Harry murmured against his mouths as their breaths intertwined, and the blonde responded by pulling the green-eyed boy closer, and deepening their kiss. Draco found himself euphoric, delighted by the little noises of pleasure Harry was making, and he wrapped his arms around the other boy's waist, pushing their two bodies closer together, making every slight movement seem as though the world had shifted. Neither of them heard the ripping noise, but they separated briefly as Draco's wings surrounded them, as though it were a makeshift cocoon.

Draco, cheeks still red-tinged, leaned his forehead on Harry's. The other boy blushed, but it didn't make much difference on his already red features. "I'm sorry," the Slytherin whispered, suddenly emotional.

"For what?" Harry said breathlessly, even though he knew exactly what the other boy was walking about. Draco gesticulated (a little wildly) at the area around them, which was dim from the shade of the wings.

"For—for this. For everything." He lowered his head, coloring a little. "I guess—I guess I haven't been the greatest person for these past few years."

"Dam straight." Harry couldn't resist adding.

Draco's head shot up, a glimmer of surprise in his eyes and a smile hovering round his face before he sobered again. "Yeah…yeah… The thing is, I'm not taking it lightly that I have to become submissive. Not at all, Potter." The last bit was said a bit sharply, and Harry waved a hand disarmingly. He leaned back before remembering the wings, but found them to be supporting his weight quite fully. Draco didn't seem to notice as Harry replied.

"I won't take advantage of you, Malfoy. That is, not if you don't try to take advantage of me." Draco seemed confused, and Harry elaborated. "You saw how sorry I felt for you. I'm the compassionate Gryff, right? Always helping around?"

Draco snorted lightly. "Compassionate, sure. Attacking me for a _fruit_ was way compassionate."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You went after it too! And besides, I thought Ginny might have warned you I'm a strawberry fiend. It looks like she and Hermione knew well enough we were going to get paired."

Draco pinched the bridge of his nose thoughtfully. "These girls are too smart for their own good. Mayhaps we should try and be rid of them? Ginevra especially. She—wears me out."

Harry laughed, and Draco smiled. He reached over and brushed some of the strands of black from the Gryffindor's eyes, marveling at the intensity of their gaze. Harry broke him out of his ponderings.

"Er…Malfoy?"

"Yeah."

"You have…glitter on your lips."

* * *

**READ THIS! PLEAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSEEEE:**

Hokay! Now that I have the characters, mindless fluff, rather obvious pairings and such set up, I can very much safely say HappyTime!Hogwarts is gone, Smart!Harry is now permantly starring, GreatkyAngeredAndMNeverSubmissiveAndYetNotDominant!Draco is also here, as well as a whole new slew of characters. The plot is emerging, the world is going crazy, and--gasp--what's this? Yes, Lucius "Luscious" Malfoy shall be making an appearence. And someone calls him Lucy. (Note: That last part is copyrighted, to ME! YAY!)

So my long and stretched out point is, this ficlet may now properly begin!

**

* * *

On Another (Endless) Note: **

Fluff-filled ending for all y'all Luckster Ducksters.  
GUESS WHAT? Ceeeeeeeeeeeellllllllphone! Cellphhhhhhhhhhhoooooooooooonnnnnnnnneeeeee!  
Yes, a new, blue, totally cool CCCCEEEEEEELLLLLLLPPHHHHOOONNNNEE!  
Now, then, whose paying for the almsot twelve hours worth of minutes I spent chatting and telling people about it? Not to mention, texting. (Sweatdrop.) Mayhaps, the CELLLLPPHHHHHONE will be gone sooner than I think so. 

Bonzai and Luffles to ya:** Shania Maxwell, Dreaming-Sensations, MagicChic82, DestinyEntwinements, luv-blonde-bunny, Yana5, acr** (...you just wanted to get some songadelic snogging in there, didn't ya? JK!) **Hoshiko Malfoy, firefairy42** (Hecks yeah this is Seventh Year! I'm sorry, sixth year with them scares me. I can barely write a whole year!) **lemonkissesxoxo, xxaishiteru, Danish Pastry 28, Master Elora Dannon **(Your suggestion has been conisdered and approved. By the way, methinks your quote shall show up in the next chap!)** berserkgoddess, the marauders are mine** (What an absolute COINKY-DINK! (insert giggle) Just this morning, Nikki ended up tackling me into a tree because I kept singing the circle of life during Science. So sad.) **zafaran**  



	10. Can You See My World Begin To Break?

Disclaimer: …Go die.

* * *

_Breath in for luck, breathe in so deep  
This air is blessed, you share with me  
This night is wild, so calm and dull  
These hearts, they race from self-control,  
These legs are smooth as they graze mine,  
We're doing fine, we're doing nothing at all  
My hopes are so high that your kiss might kill me  
So won't you kill me, so I die happy,  
My heart is yours, to fill or burst,  
To breakl or bury, to wear as jewelry  
Whichever you prefer._

-Hands Down- Dashboard Confessional

* * *

**Can You See My World Begin To Break?**

**issalee **

* * *

Draco was sitting at his desk in the Head Boy's rooms, scribbling the first draft of what was to be many. He was writing a letter to his father, and nothing at all could be mentioned of Harry; _nothing_. They'd separated last time, after a few more words exchanged, in an awkward pause. Neither had attempted any more kisses, but neither had attempted any angry statements, either. Draco shook his head, casting away thought of Harry, and tried again to write his letter. 

He was interrupted, however, when his father's regal eagle owl suddenly clattered in front of him, spilling a bottle of ink. Draco quickly cast a Scourgify, but not before glaring at the owl. "Stupid beast."

It blinked steadily at him, used to his moods, and held out a leg. Draco took it, making sure to flick the owl lightly with his finger as he took the rolled up parchment. It didn't even offer him a peck on the hand before taking flight; they were that well trained, and he wasn't necessarily talking about the owls.

Draco's eyes narrowed, and he almost decided not to open the letter. But curiosity overwhelmed him, and he unrolled it quickly. His eyes scanned the paper greedily, but they widened within moments of reading it.

"_Mother…_" He whispered; gripping the parchment so tightly it nearly ripped. Those outside of his room heard his next cry, shouted to the world and vented with all the pain and frustration he could master.

"_MOTHER!_"

* * *

Harry Potter was currently sitting the Albus Dumbledore's office, watching as the Headmaster wrote something down. Harry tapped a finger on the arm of the velvet green chair he was sitting in, glancing nervously at his lap before looking up again, finally giving voice to his question. 

"You wanted to see me, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore glanced up, and a sort of icy dread clutched at Harry's heart. The twinkle was _gone_, absolutely diminished, and new wrinkles had added themselves to his face.

"Is it Remus?" Harry said hoarsely. "Mrs. Weasley? Mr.? Someone I know?"

Dumbledore shook his head, but then hesitated. Harry had never, in all his years at Hogwarts, seen Dumbledore hesitate.

"It is—three people you should know well, Harry. I am fearing for you now, not only as a pupil, but the something of a son you've become to me for many years now."

Harry stood from his seat. Such a strongly voiced opinion from the Headmaster could only mean deaths, and deaths were never a good thing. When he'd defeated Voldemort, after hours of grueling battle, which ended in one, all-out, private battle with the Dark Lord, Harry had hoped for peace. But renegade Death Eaters were everywhere now, clamoring for another Dark Lord to rise, for another to take over the throne.

"Harry." Dumbledore said, standing as well. "Yesterday, Saturday night, the Ministry of Magic responded to a call from a Squib living nearby some Muggles. She alerted them of the presence of several people in masks, aiming for one house—one house, in particular. There were Dementors involved, one for each of these persons."

"You can't be serious."

Dumbledore peered over his glasses gravely. "Harry. Last night, several Death Eaters and Dementors attacked the Dursleys. Vernon Dursley was killed, caught in crossfire of the magical spells cast about. Petunia and Dudley were out in the garden when Mrs. Figg heard their frantic cries, and called the Ministry. She shielded them for quite a while before any officials arrived, but by then nearly all the Death Eaters were gone. One Rabastan Lestrange was apprehended, and is now being held in custody."

Harry was at a loss for words. The Dursleys were never good to him—never. But they had never asked for him. He'd been a burden dumped on their doorstep for absolutely no reason, there only for his own needs, his own gains. He was a problem—a major, major problem. Vernon was dead, because of him.

The death list Harry had found in a newspaper after Voldemort's defeat was running through his mind again. He'd found it at the Burrow, in the kitchen, and Mr. Weasley had to pry it from his hands to get it away. Harry barely registered what Dumbledore was saying as the names flashed across his mind.

"We need you to talk to Mr. Lestrange, or else we may not be able to convict him. Wizarding Law states…"

_

* * *

Susan Amherst, three years of age. COD—Avada Kedavra_

_Erin Hammond, thirteen years of age. COD—Avada Kedavra_

* * *

"…Need you to testify, maybe…" 

_

* * *

Claire McGee, six years of age (Muggle). COD—Stupefy, blown into wall._

* * *

"…Will go free…Bellatrix still out there…brother, husband…"

* * *

_Andrew Michael-Smith, twenty-one years of age. COD—Avada Kedavra_

* * *

"Harry!" Dumbledore said sharply, and the Gryffindor looked up. The Headmaster's voice softened. "I know what you're doing, Harry. Please, do not work yourself up into a fit. We do not need you to die of apoplexy before everything can be sorted out." 

"When's the hearing?" Harry asked, stating the only question he could.

"As soon as possible." Dumbledore peered over his glasses, pausing for a moment before coughing lightly. "This Saturday, Mr. Potter. You will tell no one of this—except, of course, for Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger, as I'm sure you'd tell them even if I forbade you to."

Harry looked up, and found the twinkle back, faded, but there. Harry's own eyes glimmered with unshed tears—those of anger, and betrayal, and maybe a hint of sorrow. His fist clenched till they were nearly white.

Dumbledore raised one spindly finger in warning. "One more thing, Harry. Rabastan was and still is a _very_ highly valued member of Voldemort's army. He, in fact, has something in his possession, which could be of great importance to us, however cleverly it is hidden. The Death Eaters would do anything to get him back—I believe he was going to tell them after the attack on the Dursleys."

Harry blinked back what was threatening to fall from his eyes. "Why would they attack them? I mean, I know that they were relatives and all—"

"That is _exactly_ why." Dumbledore murmured. "Now that Petunia and Dudley have been forced out of their own home, they cannot offer you protection there. They are currently residing in Grimmauld Place, under the ever-watchful eye of Tonks, however clumsy it is."

Harry was stunned. "I—am I going to die, Professor?"

Dumbledore chuckled, despite the severity of the situation. "Oh, no, Harry. You will not die, so long as you stay at Hogwarts and—only Hogwarts."

"But the hearing—how—?"

"It will take place here." Dumbledore said gently. "Rabastan is being subdued at an Auror outpost even as we speak, and will be bound when he arrives later on tonight. He will stay bound, until the members of the Wizengamot have assembled this Saturday Eve."

Harry bit his lip, ducking his head so he could bat away a tear with his eyelashes. He pushed back his chair and stood, nodding a goodbye to Dumbledore. He was halfway out the door before he stopped, looking back over his shoulder.

"Professor—what sort of information is he withholding?"

Albus Dumbledore was not one to give away his expressions lightly, and when he did so, it was only in the direst of cases. Now, a sudden crease developed in his forehead as he frowned deeply.

"Harry…Rabastan Lestrange is in the possession of the name of the new Dark Lord the Death Eaters have chosen. He, and he only, knows the whereabouts and identity of the one person."

Harry swallowed, nodding again, before walking out. Behind him, Dumbledore looked over at Fawkes, who had been watching quietly the entire time. Now, the phoenix let out a shrill note. Dumbledore nodded sagely.

"Yes, Fawkes. I do believe the battle was never even half over when the last war came to an end."

* * *

In the Room of Requirement, Hermione and Ron sat grimly, with their mouths in tight lines and wrinkled foreheads as Harry finishes relating the conversation. In a sudden, unexpected movement, Hermione sighed and leaned over to hug Harry tightly. 

"Oh, _Harry_!" was all she said. Ron shook his head gravely.

"I don't know what to say, mate. I mean—Dursley was never good but I don't—I don't think he should have died, you know? They never touched you, did they?" he asked, with a touch of suspicion.

"No." Harry shook his head, the faintest of smiles on his face. "No, they didn't. The most I ever got was a day or two without a meal, and lots and lots of verbal abuse. That's why I'm so scrawny and sensitive."

Hermione surprised him again when she hit him lightly on the shoulder. "You are not scrawny and—and—and sensitive. If you're sensitive, Harry, then I am the Queen of Azkaban."

"They have a Queen?" Harry asked, amused, but then his outlook sobered. "So what am I supposed to do about Lestrange?"

"Is it like with the woman one?" Ron asked. "Bellatrix?"

Harry paled considerably. "No," he said softly. "She'll die a painful death a my hands someday, for what she did to Sirius, but Rabastan, I think I'll just intensely hate and despise. An Avada will do for him."

"Harry, stop it." Hermione said chidingly. "I think you're scaring Ron!"

"He is _not_! I mean, I'm not!" Ron protested, even though he had been inching away from Harry moments before. "It's just that you look bizarre like that, mate."

"Ron. Shut up." Hermione said, then looked back to Harry. "You know we're here for you, right? We'll even attend the hearing with you, if Dumbledore lets us…" she trailed off, a slight glazed look coming into her eye. "Harry, what did you say his name was?"

"Lestrange," The boy repeated, a bit irritated. "Rabastan Lestrange. Were you even listening, Hermione?"

"I was!" She said indignantly. "But that name seems familiar…"

"What are you going on about?" Ron snapped at her. "Of course it's familiar, Harry's said it a billion times just now, and he was one of the Death Eaters listed since the First War!"

"Shut up, Ronald." Hermione said again, pursing her lips together. "I'm sure there's something else that I'm trying to remember."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Just leave her alone, Ron. She'll go off to the library and find everything will be ok in her world filled with dusty books and such."

Hermione glared at him. "Well, Harry, _some_ of us actually care about our grades! You can't expect to pass your seventh year when you're not studying at all! Did you even _start_ your Potions essay?"

"The three foot one?"

"Yes!"

"No."

Hermione gaped for the merest of moments before getting up, stomping her foot and walking away, muttering several choice four letter words.

"You've gone mental, mate." Ron stared at her retreating form, shaking his head. "She'll get you for it when you most need her."

"Yeah? Well I don't care," Harry replied, suddenly miserable. "I'm going to bed, ok? We've got classes tomorrow, and I'm gonna wake up early."

"To finish the essay?" Ron asked, a tad hopefully. Harry rummaged in his knapsack and threw Ron a piece of parchment. "Nope. I finished mine weeks ago; that comment before was just for show."

Ron shook his head again, dumbfounded. "Gods, Harry, Hermione'll kill you faster than You-Know-Who could come up with a plan."

Harry's eyes glittered strangely as he answered. "Good. I'm counting on it."

* * *

Blaise was sitting cross-legged on Draco's bed, face drawn and serious for once. Pansy and Theodore were also there, both of them in chairs, staring listlessly at the wall or random objects. 

"Are you sure," Pansy said finally, "That that's what the letter said?"

By way of replying, Blaise picked up the letter and read it over again, glancing every so often at the white blonde hair he could see from the edge of the bed where Draco was reclining.

"_My Dearest Son,_" he read, eliciting a soft snort from Draco.

_Your dear friend Trixie came for a visit after you left for your vacation villa. She missed you terribly, and your mother was very upset that she had to deal with the hosting all herself. I was away, for a while._

_Imagine my surprise to find your mother and Trixie arguing—over you, nonetheless—when I got home! So, to set it right, I sent your mother on a long, relaxing vacation. Don't expect to hear from her soon; she's under orders from her doctor and I not to._

_Trixie would just like to say she couldn't wait until Christmas break to see you! Oh, and another thing; your aunt Tynan is coming for a visit. I suggest you shape up for her, as she is strict in every way. She would like to see you sooner; don't you have a free period this Wednesday?_

_If only she could somehow see you…ah, me. Be good, Draconis._

_Concisely yours, _

_Lucius Malfoy_

"What does it mean?" Theodore asked. Of the three, he was the farthest from Draco. Blaise and Pansy had spent most of their lifetimes with him, and he'd only come along in their school years.

"Trixie is his aunt Bellatrix." Blaise said, looking up. "And if she came by and argued with Narcissa, there's a good chance Lucius would lock her up. I think, if he could have, he would have chosen Bella over Narcissa."

"Bellatrix Lestrange?" Theodore shook his head, shaken. "I would be upset too. But will Narcissa be ok?"

"There's no telling," Blaise began, but Draco interrupted him.

"No. She won't. Knowing the beast I call my father, she's probably sick, dying, or dead by now." A chill swept through the room, and Pansy attempted to shrug it away.

"Who's this aunt of yours, Draco? Is she nice?"

Draco's head dropped slowly, until his chin was against his chest. He laced his fingers together, drawing his knees up as he answered softly. "Tynan Malfoy makes the Dark Lord seem like a puppy. She was his most loyal, better even than Bellatrix, and yet no one knew of it. She's my father's younger sister, and after the First War, she did a few little things in America before coming back. I haven't seen her for ages; doubtless the Dark Lord will want her back, though."

"But—she won't go back, will she?" Theodore stammered, but the stupidity of the question hit him immediately, so he added a comment quickly. "At least you have until Christmas break before you have to see her."

Another soft snort. "Please. Lucius wasn't joking when he said I had a free period on Wednesday; that morning, mark my words, I'm going to get another owl from him telling me when and where, in code. Tynan will not be missed."

Silence greeted his words, until Pansy slid out of the chair, padding across the room quietly. She sat down next to Draco, watching the Slytherin as he stared blankly at his fingers. In a sudden movement, she leaned over and pressed a hand to his shoulder, for only the merest of seconds, but it spoke volumes.

"We're here, Draco. Even when your mother isn't."

Draco put his head in his hands and blinked blearily, trying his best to see around the tears he was sure would come soon. "I don't doubt it for a second, Pans."

Theodore smiled as he let his head slip into his palm and he gazed at his best friends. Blaise, however, was not so easily dissuaded. He of all the three was the closest to Draco; even Pansy paled in comparison to his longstanding friendship with Draco. He knew merely saying they were there wouldn't help all that much.

The boy Zabini glared at the letter in his hands, as though wishing for it to disappear, but then a thought came to his head. He would find Draco's mother…

And Gryffindor's Golden Boy would back him up.

* * *

Malfoy Manor was a huge building, dwarfing Draco's villa with its immense proportions. Catacombs ran deep underneath the building, leading to secret dungeons, chambers, and even darker, deeper places that no one had ventured into since they were discovered—or made. 

Lucius Malfoy was, at the moment, sitting in his office, plotting over a map of the Manor. An unfinished map, but it was the best he could do. A house-elf appeared with a small _pop_, holding up a silver-edged goblet as it trembled. Lucius plucked the drink from the tray, sipping at the wine inside idly. The house-elf wasted no time in getting away, relieved to find its master was occupied by something else.

The silence, however, was not to last for a long. As Lucius pored over the wrinkled and frayed parchment, the door was flung wide open. He looked up, rolling his eyes discreetly as Bellatrix Lestrange stomped in, her face twisted in an angry scowl.

"I want her out of here, Lucius!" she screeched. "She's driving me mad!"

"Now, now, Bella." Lucius tried to reason with her. "She's my younger sister! I can't kick her out. She has nowhere to go, now, the Ministry is still checking her manor."

"Well, she should have thought of that before she showed up demanding asylum a few days ago!" Bellatrix spat. "She's an utter horror, distracting everyone with her—with her—"

"Looks?" A voice said wryly from behind her. Bellatrix whirled around, nearly frothing at the mouth as she glared at her new archenemy, who had replaced Harry Potter within an hour of her arrival.

Tynan Malfoy was indeed an ethereal beauty. Her mother had been a sixth veela, and it seemed the veela portion had deposited most of itself into her and forgotten about her brother. Her light, white-blond hair curled at the ends, and was waist length. She wore a long, flowing beaded skirt in an earthy brown, with a long sleeved shirt ending in bell sleeves, and the shirt ended just above her navel. Her hair was, at the moment, done in a complicated bun with several twists and turns, so that when one looked at her from behind it looked as though a star had been woven into her hair.

She had blue eyes that were so vividly blue (Think Children of Dune) one had to wonder why they were not part of the sky. Nothing came from those eyes, however, not even a slight coldness. She was entirely untouchable, from her upturned nose to the small, discreetly folded wings she kept folded behind her. Lucius knew Draco got the Urian blood from his side of the family—but whatever his sister got, he didn't know. She kept the wings well hidden, as well as the other, otherworldly things even Lucius didn't know.

Now, as she smiled wickedly, Lucius had to resist the urge to shudder. Here, was a woman that had no problems with slaughtering the innocent, and letting the guilty go free.

"Lucy, dear, tell Bella that I am not attempting to make any of the men divert their attention from me to her. I am merely awaiting the arrival of my Lord, as I have not seen him in many years. When he's here, I'm gone!"

She clapped her hands together like a delighted child, and looked curiously at Lucius's work. "What are you doing, Lucy?"

"Don't call me Lucy, Tynan. That is a _girl's_ name." Lucius griped.

"There's a difference?" Tynan shrugged and crossed the room quickly, her skirt swishing as she did so. "Ooh, are you looking for a new place to move Cissy? I'll miss her—she was a nice plaything."

Bellatrix, from behind her, shivered inwardly. She had nothing to do with Narcissa's lock up. Tynan had arrived and Narcissa had wanted her out—Tynan had gotten furious, and Bellatrix had only been conscious after she was done; when she was, Narcissa was gone, and the Malfoy youngest dearly content.

"Lucius," she snapped, in an effort to conceal her precious thoughts. "Send her to another house! Merlin knows you have enough to!"

The enigmatic Malfoy opened his mouth, eyes flashing with momentary anger, but Tynan beat him to it. She sidled over to Bellatrix, smiling thinly.

"Bella, darling. You would do anything for our Lord, would you not?"

"Of course," Bellatrix was quick to say. She stood stiff as a board, eyeing the younger girl contemptuously. What did this scum have over _her_, the Dark Lord's favorite?

Tynan giggled. "Don't be so furious, Bella." She made a face as she said it, and smiled again, but it didn't reach her eyes. "The Dark Lord requested that I stay here, close by. He is making his way here as we speak, but he has business elsewhere. There is a plan afoot, Bellatrix. I should hope you'd want a part in it."

The dark-haired beauty was curious. "What kind of plan?"

"Something that should not be spoken of." Tynan said, eyes gleaming evilly. "Something that involves blood and shattered bones—those of children!" She laughed, something so beautiful that it was an utter facsimile of a sham, a mockery of the words she had spoken. Lucius shivered as he saw Bellatrix smile, and a true one. These two women were not the sort he'd wish to be next to on a dark night.

"If this is indeed the plan, I shall enjoy it." Bellatrix proffered a hand, the next lie about to be spoken stowed carefully in her mind. "Mayhaps I mistook you, Tynan Malfoy. Shall we start over?"

"Ah, yes! Be bound to me!" Tynan was still laughing. "Be bound to me, Bellatrix Black, as my sister-in-law was! Oh, yes, Miss Black. I understand perfectly that you're married, but—"

She leaned over, lips lightly grazing Bellatrix's cheek before she murmured in the older woman's ear. "As am I, but you don't see me changing my name, now do you?" She laughed again, as though unaware of the mysterious chill that had settled in the room. Without warning, Tynan grabbed Bellatrix's hands, and balanced on the balls of her toes, lips curved in a wicked smile.

"We are bound, Bellatrix Black, although you may not like it. You are bound and gagged and tied to me securely, and I would like you to remember that." Her grip tightened around the already pale wrists she was holding, but even when Bellatrix whimpered, she didn't loosen them. "I would like you to know, Miss Black, that I intend to never, ever cut such ties, unless my life was in danger. Yours, I believe, is dispensable."

She dropped the wrists suddenly, and, as though disgusted by them, wiped her hands on her skirt. She whirled around to face Lucius, beaming again. "Brother dearest, I shall be wandering the castle! Rabastan Lestrange was captured today, was he not? We need to interrogate, interrogate, interrogate!" She giggled again, and then was gone.

Bellatrix collapsed onto the carpet, gasping. Around her wrists were red marks, as though a rope had been around them tightly and for a long time. Lucius stood, walked over to her, and knelt.

"Do not aggravate her, Bella." He said softly, but with no remorse in his voice. "You are drifting away from your boundaries, and she has merely reinforced them. Be safe, be secure, and may the Darkness guide you always." He kissed her forehead softly and exited the room without a word.

Bellatrix watched him go, eyes wide. After a moment, she dragged herself to the desk, and grabbed the silver wine goblet. She upended it on her wrists, watching with fright as steam hissed up from the spots where chilled wine touched red welt.

The wine continued to run down her hands, her dress, and finally the floor, like blood running in rivulets down her body. And, in truth, Bellatrix was starting to wonder if she was better off dead.

Hell would _have_ to be better than this.

* * *

Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

I updated, isn't that nice? Now, sorry for spelling mistakes, crude words, bladdeblahdeblah, but I am currently writing this while Solizle (such a good friend) is distracting my parents.

Don't hate me forever, but this means no reviews...and, bu the way, you all should thanks M-Chan for this whole plot coming out. If I ever refer to her as Ki-chan or Aki-chan or Mai-chan, it's the same person, no worries, but since it's sort of her plot (well...her character, anyways) she'll be helping...sorta.

* * *


	11. Life's Sort of Funny When You're Crazy

Disclaimer: Nope, not mine.

* * *

_I'm sorry for asking you  
To be sorry  
But I'm even sorrier for  
Asking you to be  
Apologetic.  
It's supposed to be  
Common knowledge  
That you're as sorry  
As sorry can never  
Ever  
Get._

-I'm Sorry…?- IssaLee (Yep. I'm a poet, and I sure as hell know it.)

* * *

**Life's Sort of Funny When You're Crazy**

**issalee

* * *

**

Rabastan Lestrange arrived at Hogwarts in a most plain fashion.

Harry was watching him enter the gates from the library window, with Ron and Hermione (he'd apologized, she had graciously accepted) just behind him. He felt like he would have wanted Draco to be there, but the blonde Slytherin had suddenly become quite enigmatic, and was refusing to talk to any Gryffindors.

Rabastan was an average sized man, with, surprisingly, pure white hair. It was so white, in fact, it looked as though someone had just taken a pencil and erased all of the color. His skin was a pale color, but he had a rosy blush settling securely on his rather boyish face. He looked more like a victim than a predator, but than he glanced upwards, and Harry saw the same calculating look he'd seen in Voldemort's eyes hidden in this man's.

Rabastan was being ushered along by a worried looking Kingsley Shacklebolt and a sour-faced woman with sunken eyes. Harry watched them until they disappeared into the building, and then he turned back to his parchment and began to write down his homework.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other with worried looks on their faces. Life, they knew, was about to get a whole lot more screwed up.

* * *

Next Night, Midnight

Tynan crept down the hallway, her long golden hair sweeping in a wide arc behind her as she turned the corner. All was quiet in Malfoy Manor; it was to be expected, as it was midnight. She was all alone, in her dark planet.

She giggled like a naughty child. This was the way she preferred her world; dark, with no idea what lay behind her. Her ice blue eyes roved the hallway again; she was excited, too much so to sleep.

Tomorrow, she would see her nephew. Tomorrow, the chosen Dark Lord would come.

Lucius had been telling her about Draco, marvelous, wondrous things. Slytherin Prince and All Around Sex God, with the added bonus of being an Urian—with fangs! This was a boy she could be proud of…but she had plans for him. She wasn't going to leave a boy with such potential in Lucius' incapable hands; doubtless, the boy was already tainted with an inkling of what lay outside of his father's protective circle.

Tynan sighed. What she would give for a child, sometimes…but Draco would make up for all of that. She would teach him what he needed to be taught to survive. Speaking of which, she wasn't going to leave him in that filthy hovel they called a school any longer. What Lucius didn't know about the meeting he had arranged for her with Draco was, when she left, Malfoy Jr. would be with her.

The young woman smiled and stifled a wild laugh. This was going to be the best fun she'd had since she was an active Death Eater! Especially now that there was a new Lord, one whom only a few select knew of…Bellatrix, for example, and herself and Lucius. But she, and only she knew that the new Lord wouldn't last much longer.

"Draco Malfoy," she whispered, unable to suppress herself. "I will find you…and when I do, I will make you into the most fearsome, awful, terrible sight the world has ever known!" A slight shimmer, obviously of magic, followed these words, escaping from her mouth in a soft sigh.

Her eyes glittered malevolently in the night as she melted into the shadows.

* * *

Draco awoke, shivering and sweating simultaneously. He'd had such a terrible nightmare…with another shudder for good measure, he slipped out of bed. He ignored the cold floor on his bare feet, and shuffled over to his bathroom, ruffling his already mussed hair. He glared at himself in the mirror, checking that his fangs were still there. They were becoming a familiar part of him now, and he couldn't imagine life without them.

The routine he had was becoming rather normal. He'd been having nightmares centered around various things since he'd received the letter three days ago. And then there was the fact that he'd had to adjust to the stares he received, after suddenly reappearing in school. With so much suspicion floating around him, nightmares were the least of his worries. His friends didn't think so, and they had set up precautionary measures.

As he walked out of the bathroom, Draco nearly tripped over Pansy and Theodore, who were lying curled up around each other on the one, long sleeping bag they'd conjured. He sighed, wishing he had a camera. Then his eyes traveled to the other side of the makeshift bed. They lingered there for a long, long moment.

Where was Blaise?

A cold chill suddenly hit him, and Draco's eyes widened. "Stupid, headstrong Zabini prat." He cursed, and began to wake up Pansy and Theo.

* * *

Two Hours Earlier

Harry came awake quite suddenly, and started as he saw something resembling two mini-oceans glaring at him. He moved for his wand, but a hand stopped his movements.

"Potter," said a low voice. "We need to talk."

The Gryffindor was wide-awake by now. "Blaise?" he said, a little groggily. "Why are you here? How'd you get in? Is Malfoy—"

"Shut it!" Blaise said harshly, and retreated. Harry sat up, and saw the Slytherin sitting at the corner of his bed, looking uncannily like a cat of some sort. He did, however, look very much exhausted. "Potter, I need your help."

"So you snuck into my common room and ignored near seven years of rivalry?"

Blaise huffed. "I wasn't the one making all those remarks, Potter! I haven't done anything wrong, just in case you didn't notice! You barely even knew me before this whole thing."

Harry grinned sheepishly, running fingers through his hair. "S'pose you're right. Sorry about that. So what _do_ you need?" he asked, curiosity evident in his voice.

"Er…well, I sort of need you to help the person who _did_ make those remarks."

"Malfoy?" Blaise didn't miss the glimmer of worry as Harry stilled in the dark. "What's wrong with him? Is he ok? Is it the Urian thing again?"

"No." Blaise said. "It's worse." He explained about the letter, leaving nothing out, sure Harry would find out about it anyway. When he was done, the Gryffindor was lying against his headboard, eyes closed.

"How did you get in here, anyway?" Harry whispered.

Blaise shrugged. "How do any of us get anywhere? I walked, of course, and I waited until I saw Longbottom finally come up with the password and slipped in behind him. Your Fat Lady isn't very observant."

"No. She isn't." Harry said, thinking of Sirius' first attempt to get into Hogwarts. "Zabini, what do you want me to do exactly? I don't get how I'm supposed to get at this woman if she's capable of getting into Hogwarts. Maybe we should go after Lucius first?"

"Lucius isn't helping." Blaise said indisputably. "Tynan can get in here all by her lonesome. She isn't some weird damsel in distress type. I know she isn't."

"How do you know so much about her if she's Draco's aunt?"

Blaise's eyes flashed. "I know a lot of things, Potter. Are you in, or are you in?"

Harry folded his arms resolutely across his chest and glared coldly at the Slytherin. "Zabini, give me one good reason why I should help Malfoy and you, and I'll go quietly."

Blaise leaned in closer, eyes flashing as he spoke softly. "Because, _Harry_, it's for Draco. And if it's for Draco, I would think you'd at least pretend to have some interest."

There was a long quiet between them, and then Harry rolled his eyes. Rabastan, he could deal with later. The trial wasn't until Saturday, but Draco only had another few hours. He failed to keep an anxious look off his face as he replied.

"Let's go, then."

* * *

Draco was furious.

Blaise was still missing, and Pansy and Theo had no idea where he'd gotten to. The Slytherin knew that Blaise would, of course, try to find some way to help him out.

"Stupid, idiotic…oh, he can burn in the most fiery depths of Hell!" he hissed, as he stalked back and forth in his room. "If he's done anything that could get me in trouble with Father I swear I'll castrate him!"

Theo blanched a little at that, suddenly thankful that he wasn't Blaise. Pansy spoke up in their friend's defense. "Draco, I'm sure that Blaise may think up some wild and crazy ideas, but surely he wouldn't put any of them into action. He wouldn't be able to, not here at Hogwarts."

Draco opened his mouth to say something, but at that exact moment a clacking on the window caught his attention. He strode towards it and threw open the window, ignoring the rush of air that accompanied it. The eagle owl outside blinked dark eyes at him, and Draco scowled as he took the roll of parchment from around its leg. He unraveled it and read it out loud.

_Draco, Dearest,_

_Hullo! It's your aunt Tynan writing! How long it's been, Draconis, since I've seen you last. Your father informed me of your free period today, and I was just so excited! Meet me at as soon as this letter gets to you (I have no doubts it will without interception) by the place they call the Forbidden Forest. Severus has already taken care of your absence, although I daresay he seemed quite reluctant to do so._

_You wouldn't mind terribly if your Godfather disappeared, would you?_

_Don't be tardy!_

_Aunt Tynan (Call me Ty, dearest.)_

A silent moan escaped the blonde's lips as he saw the owl fly out over the castle grounds, and then swoop down to the same secluded edge of forest he'd almost died in.

"Are you really going to go?" Pansy asked quietly.

Draco hunched his shoulders, and knitted his eyebrows together. "Since when do I have a choice? It's a win-win situation, for her."

"We're coming with you," said Pansy steadfastly. Theodore nodded.

Draco didn't say a word, but they saw him relax a little. When he turned around, the coldly arrogant expression was back on his face, and he stood tall. He was every inch the Malfoy he was meant to be.

"You're a great improvisation actor, Draco." Theodore said helpfully. The mask didn't slip for a moment as Draco turned to face him, with a look that said all. Theodore kept his mouth shut as they walked out.

The castle grounds were eerily quiet as they paced along. A slight fog settled over them, mist in heavy tow, and Draco wiped the dampness from his face. The Forbidden Forest loomed into view quite suddenly, but they ignored its foreboding presence and continued.

Draco stopped short abruptly. Ahead of him he could see the same tree he had been leaning against before he'd attempted to drown himself. He suppressed a shudder and closed his eyes briefly, before opening them and looking around again.

"She's not here." Theodore said, stating the obvious. "Does this mean we go?"

"She's here." Pansy disagreed. "You can sense it." And it was true. Not a sound penetrated the stillness they were in, and not a breeze stirred up the plants. A soft cooing had them all looking up. In the branches of a tall fir tree, a bird was stirring.

It looked down at them as though judging them, before vaulting off the branch it was perched on. Pansy stifled a gasp; it was a totally, ebony-black dove. The dove flew down headfirst and at such an alarming speed, it looked as though it was going to crash. But then, at the last second, it veered upward a little. The spindly legs became dainty feet enclosed in black, knee-high, dragonhide boots. The plump body became a slim one, and the round head became a sharp, beautiful face.

Tynan smiled as she approached the children, dressed in something reminiscent of a tunic and leggings. "Hello, Draconis and company!" she frowned a little, though, as she stopped just in front of them. "There should be a third. Blaise?"

"Missing." Draco said coolly. "He's covering for us; I took your hint about Severus quite seriously." Tynan cocked her head to the side, and Draco tried hard not to shudder as the relentless ice blue eyes bored into him.

"Is that so?" Draco didn't move, and she seemed to accept this. She skimmed over his body, smiling delightedly as she saw he was physically fit. Tynan glanced at Theodore, whom she could tell was struggling not to fall in love with her right there, and Pansy.

"Is she your girlfriend?" The question caught Draco off-guard.

"What?"

"Your girlfriend," Tynan said sweetly, nodding to Pansy. "Is she it?" Pansy's expression became dark, but Draco gave her a discreet motion behind his back warning her to stay quiet.

"No, she's not. I'm still single."

"Pity," Tynan said, as she moved closer. "It seems like every girl in the school would be after you, wouldn't they?"

"And they are." Draco said, rolling his eyes. "Every one of them, even the Gryffindors. It's quite annoying, really."

Tynan got straight to the point. "How would you like to leave them behind?"

"I don't see your point."

"Leave, Draco. Leave this school, with me." She was now close enough to lift and finger and trail it down his face, but he showed no emotion. "What reason would you have to stay? I have big plans for you, dearest."

"Leave?" Draco repeated. Outside, he was still the calm, cool, untouchable Malfoy. Inside, though, his heart was racing, and although he was thinking of his friends, teachers and studies, one name superimposed all these.

_Harry…_

_Harry_

**_Harry…_**

"Draconis?"

Draco shook himself, and found Tynan to be peering at him strangely. Before he could say a word, she started up again. "Of course, Draco, I know all about your Urian side. I suppose you've found your mate?"

The blonde had no choice but to nod. Tynan smiled at him, but it still didn't reach her eyes. She reached out a dainty hand, placing it on his chest, just on his heart.

"Of course, we could take your mate with you. But we've got to find them, hadn't we?" Draco suddenly found his mouth dry, and he was unable to move or speak. Tynan's face betrayed nothing as she pressed her palm harder against her nephew's body.

Then, unexpectedly, a blue mist escaped from under her outspread fingers. The tendrils curled up and around Draco's face for a moment, feeling his features as though memorizing them, before pulling back sharply. The young Malfoy collapsed on his knees, breathing raggedly. He felt as though his whole heart had been torn out.

"Or," Tynan said, twirling the ball of blue mist on her index finger, "We could simply take that love away. I had a mate too, darling. I had to do that same little treatment to be rid of him."

Draco didn't answer; he couldn't have. His whole lungs felt as though they were caving in, and he felt achingly empty. Vaguely, he could hear Pansy and Theo shouting something and running to his defense. Tynan's eyes were hooded, but her other hand shot up, pointer finger in their direction. Draco only heard the thuds, and nothing else.

"You can get new friends." His aunt said, her voice cracking slightly. "Oh, Gods, these are so tiring. Draconis, get up so that we may leave."

Instead, the Slytherin blacked out.

* * *

From nearly twenty feet away, Harry and Blaise were watching the scene with wide-open eyes. Harry had started for Draco as soon as the blue mist had started up, but Blaise held him back. Now the Boy-Who-Lived was absolutely livid.

"She's hurt him! He's knocked out!" Harry hissed, attempting to run into the clearing, but Blaise held him back.

"Listen to me, did you see what she did to Pansy and Theo _without a wand_?" Harry winced as he caught a glance of the motionless bodies, both having slammed into tree trunks. "She can do that to you just as easily; and you're Harry Potter! The Boy-Who-Lived! She'd kill you sooner than think what would happen to Draco!"

Harry was quiet for a moment, and he ceased his struggles. His head was bent low, and Blaise had to strain as the boy spoke. "He needs that mist to be back inside of him. Can we help?"

"We'd need Dumbledore. This is crazy…" Blaise sighed. "We have to hold her off. Doubtless, your friends are already looking for you, and so are the Slytherins."

Harry suspected Snape may have had something to do with the whole thing, but he didn't say a word, as they were still using the Potions Master in the spying field. "We have to find a way to alert Dumbledore and get him out here, fast."

"Attack the barriers," Blaise suggested. "Throw a few good hexes at them and something will happen. But we need to distract Tynan too."

Harry's mouth became a grim, tight line. "Leave that to me."

* * *

Tynan sniffed in disgust as she walked closer to Draco's still form and bent down. "Pathetic. Couldn't even protect himself…must work harder than I thought, then." The blue ball, she held in one hand as she straightened up.

"Time to get rid of this!" A smile made its way across her face as she held up her hand, preparing to crush the ball.

Pansy stirred and opened her eyes, groaning a little. She gasped a little as she stood up, leaning against the tree she had hit, and looked over at Tynan.

"Get away from Draco!" the raven-haired girl said spitefully.

Tynan shook her head. "You silly, silly girl. Are you angrier because I've taken away Draco's ladylove? Or your boy toy?" she inclined her head towards the still unconscious Theodore, and Pansy took a step forward, shaking her fist.

"You—you evil whore!"

Tynan's eyes narrowed. "Evil, I can take. But to call _me_ a whore? That's going a bit far, darling. From what I've heard of you, your reputation isn't all that great either."

Pansy made a rude gesture with one of her fingers, and as Tynan's face rapidly colored, the girl Slytherin suddenly knew this was probably her last moment. She fell to her knees, squeezing her eyes shut as she prepared to accept her death.

—But it never came. Pansy opened her eyes, and gasped.

Harry, after Blaise had slipped away, was watching for an opening, and now was a good time as any. He sprinted from his hiding spot, and Tynan barely had time to look for the disturbance when he knocked her down. When she could open her eyes again, Harry was breathing heavily, and had his wand at her throat. In his other hand, he held the mist ball.

"Funny, isn't it, when the advantage's on the other hand?" Harry told her.

Tynan smiled back at him. "Funny is when you worship the Dark Lord, walk into a Muggle Catholic Church expecting to make fun of them, and then find out you're not so different after all."

Harry blinked, mission momentarily forgotten. "You're crazy."

"I know, aren't I beautiful?" Tynan flicked at him lightly on the nose, and while he colored her gaze traveled up to his scar. "Ooh, Harry Potter is straddling me!"

"_What!_"

The blonde giggled. "Well then, Mr. Potter, take me, take me!" she waggled her eyebrows at him and he poked her jugular in disgust.

"Shut up!" He looked up; Pansy already limping towards him, and he held out the ball of mist. "Put that back inside of Draco, and be careful with it!" Pansy nodded, carefully taking the ball and smirking triumphantly at the older woman before hurrying towards Draco.

Harry turned back to Tynan, only to find her watching him thoughtfully. "You know, I'm not stupid." She said suddenly. "You've got his mark on your neck."

Harry's hand automatically shot up to cover the two spots on his neck, blushing furiously and attempting to stay angry with her (which, although he was quite gay, became very hard with her looks (_and_ she knew it)).

"So, Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter," the blond drawled. "Actually, not surprising." She giggled. "Listen to this! You two barely know each other and you're already necking (1)!"

Harry, by now thoroughly frightened of this woman (and properly so) jumped backwards as soon as he looked back and saw the blue mist floating round Draco's body again. In the process, Tynan stood so quickly he wasn't sure she moved. She beamed at him, looking very much like a child in the process.

"I'm going to make you an offer. Call off your dog," she pointed at Pansy, "And I'll take Draco _and_ you. It's very nice, actually, on the Dark side. The Light side makes me sun burnt."

Harry pointed his wand levelly at her, eyes cold. "You can take that offer and shove it up your—" He stopped, gulping as he found a wisp of blond hair to be tickling the nape of his neck. Harry didn't dare move as Tynan whispered in his ear from her abrupt position change to behind him.

"Don't finish that sentence. It won't be good for you, although I've already decided I'm going to kill you." Her voice held not even its full extent of malevolence, but Harry shivered even so. He was suddenly painfully aware of the grip she had on his arm as she spun him around to face her.

Up close and with such a terrible expression of anger on her face, the great beauty was still a beauty, but one that struck fear very easily into the hearts of others.

"So, _Harry_," she sneered. "My nephew is your mate? Your love? Your Intended?" Harry found he couldn't move, but his hand tightened around his wand. Tynan didn't miss the movement, and she laughed, the high-pitched giggle of the obviously insane.

"Harry, dearest, don't tell me you're attempting to get at _me_? I am only trying to protect Draconis, and you, my dear, are one of the most powerful dangers around. He is a Malfoy, after all; would such a romance even work?"

"You shouldn't be talking," Harry whispered, wondering frantically where Blaise was, and if Pansy was seeing any of this. His question was answered by the faint crackling of leaves, and Tynan's other hand shot behind her. A faint gargle was heard, and then nothing else. Harry couldn't even move to see what happened.

Tynan continued as though nothing had happened. "He will use you, Harry, and to the fullest extent of his being. He has no true interest in you, and I hope you remember that. How is one little fling going to affect sixteen years of daily life?"

"I am _not_ a fling!" Harry said, more just to protest than actually believing it. Draco's aunt did not miss it, as her grip tightened on his arm and her eyes became mere slits. There was a mad light in them, still, and Harry was struck with the sudden realization that Bellatrix Lestrange had _nothing_ on Tynan Malfoy.

"Did you ever ask, Mr. Potter," she whispered. "Who it was that was in the house when your parents were dying? Voldemort may have killed them, but someone could have—toyed with a few things afterwards."

Harry stiffened, and his eyes grew wide even as his face paled. Tynan smirked; satisfied to see her point had gotten through. "Oh, yes, Harry. You may have had those dreams, but you were only a babe. You didn't see _everything_, did you? James Potter was such a handsome man…pity he married such a wench."

"Don't…don't!" Harry stuttered, suddenly feeling exhausted, but the woman didn't pay him any mind.

"Yes, the Dark Lord screamed the Avada. Yes, James Potter nearly died. _Nearly_. I am more powerful that you think, Mr. Potter." She brought her face closer to his, tittering a little. "How is it, Mr. Potter, that the attack was not heard about until hours after Lily and James Potter had died? I can do many marvelous things, Harry."

She held up her other hand, palm forward, and blinked. Her palm seemed to merge, and then, in that instant, Harry saw his parents quite clearly, cowering in fear in the corner of their house. Laughter echoed raucously in his mind, the same laughter he was hearing even now, and then he was stumbling backwards, shaking his head.

"_Leave him alone!_" Someone shouted. Harry didn't have to look up to see it was the newly awakened Draco, but he did so anyway. The blonde Slytherin was very much furious; sparks were literally flying from his body, and his wings had appeared, spreading behind his head in a fearsome figure. Pansy was kneeling, wide-eyed, and rubbing at her throat as though she couldn't breath. Draco touched her shoulder with his wand, and a soft white light emanated from it. She gave a gasp of relief before collapsing.

Harry, however, was soon distracted. Tynan was blowing on the palm of her hand, and she smiled wickedly at him. "If I could do it once, Harry, I could do it again!" The Gryffindor watched in horrified fascination as the back of her shirt tore open, and two ebony-black wings even bigger than Draco's became visible.

Draco was already at his side. "Are you ok?" The blonde muttered from the corner of his mouth, eyes still on his aunt. Harry was looking at Tynan with a fixed expression of terror and joy on his face.

"She brought my parents back to life." He whispered.

Draco, startled by this comment, turned his head slightly. It was all Tynan needed. With a wild and breathless laugh, she held out both of her palms and shouted, "_Exanimo!_"

Twin whirlwinds grew from her palms, bursting forth at the exact same moment and joining quickly into one, roaring monster. Neither boy had a chance to even bat an eyelash as the wind overtook them, throwing them farther into the forest.

"Harry!" Draco screamed. "Hold onto me!"

The raven-haired boy squeezed his eyes shut, and shook his head. Perplexed, the blonde nearly let the wind sweep him away, but then a new determination overtook him. He used his wings and the wind to take a sudden forward leap, and grabbed Harry round the waist so that his chin was resting on the other boy's head.

The Urian in him awoke, and began a fierce battle to protect his mate. The winds were bent as much as they could go, slowing them down as best he could, but his powers were still undeveloped. By this time, Harry had gotten over whatever distress was holding him and turned over in midair. His eyes grew wide.

"There's a tree!" he cried. Draco locked eyes with him, suddenly very much fearful. The Gryffindor was still in shock and he didn't need to see this. Draco already knew what was about to happen…he didn't think Harry needed to either.

Without stopping to think, he captured Harry's lips in a searing kiss, sufficiently distracting the other boy.

_I'm so sorry…_

**For what?**

Draco's eyes shot open in surprise, and he broke away, but it was too late. The Slytherin's body connected with the tree trunk with a sickening crunch, and he slid down its length. Harry's body was cushioned by the one of the Urian's, and he groaned a little as he fell back. His leg was definitely broken.

"Mal—Draco?" he murmured. There was no reply, and he shot upwards.

Draco Malfoy was lying at the roots of the tree, a thin trickle of blood coming from his mouth. His fangs were now visible, the magic maintaining the charm having been abruptly gone, and they had apparently pierced his lip. What frightened Harry, however, was the frightening amount of blood coming from Draco's left arm.

He crawled over to the other boy and cradled the arm in his lap. Harry ripped the sleeve from Draco's dress robes and bound the arm as tightly as he could. A sudden sob ripped through his throat as he succumbed to the hopelessness of the situation, and he laid his head against the Slytherin's chest with only one thought running through his mind.

He had never seen so much blood in his entire life…

* * *

**(1)** Ok, this is from a v.v. cool review from Master Elora Dannan, which made me laugh a lot and spill stuff.   


Partypartyparty...ehhhhhhhhhhhhhh, ze parties...

Here is my excuse (which will probably not be read, but nyeh): I was at a party Friday night. Before the party, I typed this up at Mai-chan's house. She has a younger brother AND sister (hahahahaha) and they were getting on our nerves, so I sort of just uploaded this and we left for the party early.

On the plus side, I DID NOT GET DRUNK. Because no one spiked the drinks, but w/e.

Bonzai and luff to: **xxaishiteru **(END? Dahling, I am just beginning the damn thing!), **Master Elora Dannan** (See! It's your quote! Yaaaaaaaaahhhhh!) **Yana 5, themaraudersaremine **(D'you think I should kill off Draco? He's making Harry look TOO good.) **firefairy42, DestinyEntwinements, Danish Pastry 28, MagicChic82 **(Next chapter, interactions, I SWEAR!) **DreamingSensations, MidnightsRose, Shania Maxwell, I Paint My Nails Black **


	12. Lying Is The Most Fun A Boy Can Have Wit

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine. However, his whole persona (and general sexiness, as well as Draco Malfoy's) was wholly determined by me.

* * *

_Wake up  
My love  
Never thought you'd make me, break me  
Now I'm up from below  
Such a brilliant star you are  
And will your love keep burning baby  
Burn a hole right through my eyes  
All these short times feel like no time  
I thought you ought to know  
I'm so far gone now I been running on empty  
I'm so far gone now  
Do you wanna take me on?_

-Lunacy Fringe- The Used

**

* * *

Lying Is The Most Fun A Boy Can Have Without Dying**

**issalee**

_

* * *

Draco was dreaming._

_He was five again, wearing loafers and a uniform consisting of blue slacks and a white collared shirt. His hair was messy and un-gelled, and he was standing by himself on a corner._

_Narcissa Malfoy was sitting inside of a café, giggling and fluttering her eyelashes charmingly as Lucius and another man with pure white hair spoke to them. Draco was left outside, standing on that corner, with strict orders not to move "or else". _

_The hours crept by, until the three finally stood up and walked out. They shook hands, and the white-haired man offered Narcissa a kiss on the cheek and hand. Lucius' eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. Draco waved a little as his mother, praying desperately for her attention. _

_Narcissa spotted him and prepared to cross the street, but Lucius held her back as the white-haired man took his leave. He said something angry to her, Draco could tell, and when she answered back coolly, he suddenly reached out and slapped her._

_Time seemed to slow. _

_Draco clutched the fire hydrant next to him, eyes wide as he watched his mother sag. Lucius took her hand and smirked, saying something else. Narcissa Disapparated, most likely back to the manor. Shivering, Draco waited as his father crossed the street and approached him._

_Lucius Malfoy knelt and pushed his son's messy bangs back. "We must buy you gel, Draconis." He muttered. Draco nodded, hoping against hope that nothing bad would happen to him. Lucius must have noticed, because his eyes softened._

"_Draco…son…look at me." The boy complied, and when Lucius saw the fear evident in the young boy's eyes, he winced a little, than grew cold again._

"_I will not have you be weak, Draconis! Your mother coddles you, and in this world, coddling is not what you need! You will be hurt!" He stood, breathing a little faster now. "Draconis, understand, this world is not the real one! You must aim higher, higher, higher! You must govern yourself!"_

_Draco nodded, even though he didn't understand anything. He was shocked when his father grabbed his chin roughly and forced steel gray to meet baby blue._

"_You have no choice in your life, Draconis. Everything you build will decay and fall down; every love you have will never last. Didn't your mother prove that just now?" The last words were said bitterly and with a little regret._

"_Daddy?"_

_Lucius' eyes were elsewhere, gazing over his son's head. "It's Father."_

"_Father, what do you mean?" Draco was wide-eyed and looking at his father with a gaze of intense curiosity._

_Lucius returned the gaze, only with intense pain. "We're changing, Draconis. I will no longer be the same father I wanted to be to you. Your mother will no longer be the same mother she was to you. She knows me no more…and the Dark Lord has decreed you to be a special, special little boy."_

_Even more inquisitive now, Draco prodded his father along silently. Lucius raised his eyes. "Everything will fall down, Draco. But you have to build it up. Understand?" When he looked down, the same cold, calculating look was there, as if he was attempting to form a plan to murder him right there._

"_Yes." The boy whispered. Lucius stepped back, glaring at the hand on which his wedding finger rested. He looked up briefly, and Draco was surprised to see tears brimming in his father's ears._

"_We're changing," Lucius whispered. "And you're not. Why is that, Draco?" And then he was gone. The little boy stood in silence for a moment, wondering how he was going to get home. But then he sat down in the cold, chilly air, and waited._

_The next morning, his mother, who was sporting a light bruise under her eye, shook him awake. She was glancing around as though searching for someone, before she pushed him up and down the street._

"_Mama?" Draco said, shaking the wet from his hair. His mother didn't say anything, still hurrying him along, but he continued anyways. "Mama, everything falls down, but I can build it up. I'm not changing, Mama!"_

_Narcissa Malfoy stopped, and in the middle of the street, fell to her knees and sobbed on her toddler's shoulder._

* * *

Hermione and Ron were seated at breakfast next to each other, each silently wondering where their friend was, but never daring to voice the question aloud in the hopes that it remained less real that way. 

"Ron," Hermione said suddenly, and under her breath. "I've been wondering, why did you accept Harry's position with Draco so quickly?"

The redhead picked at his food, eyes never straying from his own plate. Hermione was beginning to wonder if he either hadn't heard her or was blatantly ignoring her when he suddenly held up his fork and twirled it between his fingers. Then, he stabbed a piece of bacon with it.

"This is us," Ron said quietly. "You, me, and Harry. All one piece." He picked up some syrup and dipped it all into the plate. "Here's You-Know-Who and all his lackeys and all the problems that pop up every other minute…they're trapping us, especially here in the middle, where Harry is."

Hermione was quiet as Ron picked up his fork again and cut the bacon into pieces, putting a slice of egg in between each of them. "This is us, if we let Malfoy separate us. See, the syrup is spreading into the bacon, especially the middle."

Ron let the food drop, and smiled a little shakily. "I figure this is the way we'll end up if I let Malfoy do that. Harry's my best mate, and he's never let me go even all those times I was awful to him—like during the Triwizard Tournament."

"You _were_ being a bastard."

Ron stared for a moment, open-mouthed, before snorting indignantly. "Hey! I was young and stupid! I've grown," he added, a touch proudly. Hermione grinned.

"Nice analogy, Ronald. Where'd you get it from?"

"Eh…Ginny's actually a very nice sister, even when she's screaming at you at the same time." Hermione's eyes widened, and she was about to laugh when a commotion at the Head table distracted her.

Dumbledore was standing up, his face creased in a frown. Outside, visible from the windows, a light blue array of sparks was shooting up from the sky. Snape and McGonagall were up as well, but he made a discreet motion. McGonagall's lips pursed and she sat back down, glaring icily at the students in the Hall as if it were their fault she had to stay there while Dumbledore and Snape disappeared into a side door.

"What was that about?" Seamus commented as he chewed on his toast.

Dean smacked him on the arm; apparently, it had been his toast. As he took another slice and buttered it, he stated lightly, "Nothing important, probably."

Lavender Brown gave up her efforts to coax Hermione into getting a makeover and nodded miserably. "This school is so _boring_! With Dumbledore as Headmaster, nothing ever goes wrong."

"I hope it stays that way," Ron muttered.

* * *

"BLAST!" 

A loud bang.

"BLOOD, BLAST AND FIRE!"

Another bang. Lucius Malfoy winced and rubbed at his ears as he watched his younger sister rage. She had changed immediately after arriving at the manor, and burned the ones she had been wearing before. They had been contaminated, but by what she wouldn't say.

"I take it the meeting with Draco didn't go well?" Bellatrix slipped into the seat next to him. They were in the large meeting parlor of the Manor, which had two doors and several chairs set up along a long table. Tynan was screaming as she blasted at a poor house-elf, who was dodging her blows with fright.

Lucius noted the gaunt way Bellatrix looked, but didn't comment on it. "The boy is not right in his mind, she says. Claims he hasn't found his mate and is probably being driven mad by it."

"Quite common for some to be mad."

Lucius looked at her sharply from the corner of his eyes, but she was staring at her wrists. They were covered by the long sleeves of the dresses she had taken to wearing to these days. Tynan herself was wearing one now, but that was because it was a special occasion.

A loud bell rang somewhere in the distance, and Tynan looked up, face still contorted with rage. Quietly, she passed a hand over her visage and snapped her fingers. The house-elf disappeared gratefully, and her face once more became cool and impassive, pale and untouchable as she took a seat just when the door open.

Rodolphus Lestrange strode in, eyes going immediately for his wife. She didn't look up, and he didn't betray any emotions as he sat down.

"Welcome, our new Dark Lord." Lucius spoke first, keeping the idle anger from his voice. Bellatrix looked up, and inwardly cursed. Her husband had averted his gaze from her to Tynan, who was smiling contritely at him.

"Oh, Rodolphus!" she crowed. "I've heard so much from you! I expect you've heard that Bella and I are like sisters, right?" Bellatrix forced a smile as her husband tore his gaze away from Tynan, as though questioning her.

"I believe it is time to plan." Rodolphus said, laying his wand on the table so he could reach it quickly. "We need a powerful ruler, and as I have been chosen—"

"You haven't."

Complete silence reigned for a moment before Rodolphus looked over at Tynan, who had spoken, a furious expression on his face. "Excuse me?"

"You haven't been chosen." Tynan said, still smiling. "The Death Eater's still don't know your identity." She rose, walking over to him and falling into his lap, cradling his head in her hands. Bellatrix stared, the madness and want for blood superimposing the need to protect. Lucius merely smirked.

Rodolphus, however, was confused. "Don't—know? But they're to be alerted…"

"Hush!" Tynan giggled, placing a finger against his lips. "We have bigger business to get down to…choosing the actual new Dark Lord." She removed the finger from his lips and placed two on his eyes, closing them. "But we must keep our eyes closed."

"Why is that?"

"Because, darling, dearest man," Tynan whispered. "Bad things happen in the daylight." She pressed her hand to his throat and his eyes flew open. Rodolphus never had a chance to protest as she smothered his mouth with her own.

"_Avada Kedavra_…" she said against his mouth. The hand on his throat glowed green, and he fell back. Tynan leapt back neatly, kicking at the body with evident scorn and wiping her mouth with disgust.

"Lucius, get an elf to clean that up. I'm going to get washed and prepare for the announcement of the new—oh, wait. I mean _you_," she said mockingly. Lucius smirked, a hand under his chin.

"Oh, sister dear, I have no doubt you will be rid of me soon. I suggest you make my last moments happy ones." He rose and swept out of the room imperiously, with Tynan a step behind him.

Bellatrix was alone in the room, and she pushed her black hair back from her eyes before looking down at the dead man that used to be her husband. Her eyes were heavily hooded, and she would have been called beautiful now had it not been for her voice. It betrayed her madness effectively, in the way that it rose and fell on some words.

She pushed the chair back and stood up, walking to the body. She leaned down and closed Rodolphus's eyes, shaking her head.

"You should have kept your eyes closed!" she hissed, and leaned down to give him a kiss.

She left without looking back.

* * *

Harry shot up, blinking back the sleep from his eyes. Immediately, a hand pushed him down, and he could hear Madame Pomfrey's voice saying something to him. "…here, it's good for you." She pressed a bottle into his hands, and as he became aware of his surroundings (the Hospital Wing? Again!) he drank it back. 

Immediately, his eyesight cleared. Harry automatically reached for his glasses and put them on, effectively reducing the blurry images. A weight was resting on his left foot, and when he reached down to pull it off, he found a cast on it. Sighing mournfully, he looked back up. Madame Pomfrey was vanishing the bottle. Behind her, he could see Dumbledore speaking in low tones to Snape.

Harry took what he believed to be a surreptitious glance around, but Madame Pomfrey noticed. She rolled her eyes and pointed out each bed in turn as she explained their injuries.

"Blaise Zabini—merely exhaustion, my boy, he was up all night. Pansy Parkinson nearly suffocated, just sleeping now. Theodore Nott…well, we still haven't seen him awake, so we're not sure what we're going to do with him."

"And Draco?" Harry asked, when the nurse hesitated. She seemed unconfident, and Harry was suddenly struck by how tired she looked.

"He's definitely giving us a run for our money. All the blood he's lost can be in no way good for him, and the Urian in him is resisting any blood we're giving him."

"Will he die?" Harry didn't know why everything had just gotten so cold, but he prayed it would get warm again soon. These hopes were dashed when Madame Pomfrey's eyes glittered with unshed tears and she walked away quickly, muttering something about changing the bedpans.

Harry was about to swing his legs over the bed and bolt for Draco's, cast or not, when Dumbledore was suddenly next to him. "Stay in bed."

Harry obeyed, dazed. The Headmaster had never spoken to him like that before—what was up? "Mr. Zabini has informed me of the happenings of yesterday morning, as has Miss Parkinson up until the point she was knocked out at. Would you like to add anything?"

Harry did, oh-so-badly. He wanted to inform his professor of everything that had happened, but he had learned when to hold his tongue. "Sir, please. Can I know what happened to Draco first? Is he going to be alright?"

"He'll be as fine as anyone who's ever known you can be, Potter." Sneered a familiar voice. Severus Snape stepped up behind Dumbledore; brow creased in what seemed to be anger but was probably concern for his godson.

Harry was suddenly consumed with rage. "You!" he said, pointing a spiteful finger at his professor. "You probably covered for that woman! You evil, conniving—"

Dumbledore cut off Harry's rant with a wave of his hand. "Mr. Potter, I am well aware of Severus' part in the matter. What he did was not the right choice, correct, but he has more than made up for it. I believe you wanted to know of Master Malfoy's position?"

Harry, torn between two alternatives, said nothing for a moment. But then his greater want won and he nodded miserably. Dumbledore's countenance became grave.

"He has lost much blood. Some part of his aunt's spell was aimed directly for you, and he threw himself in front of it. His arm hit the tree trunk first, and by the time we found you, both of you had passed out with the pain. Mr. Malfoy's Urian side if not accepting any medicines and is trying to recover on its own, but that won't happen. He needs blood, Harry, if he wants to survive."

"But what do—" Harry began, before his eyes widened.

_Oh._

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, as though amused. "You know what you have to do already, Harry? But only if you are willing, understand."

"…don't give a damn if he's willing…" Snape's muttering was heard.

Harry grinned, a little worriedly.

"I'm all for it, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded. "Good, good. Now, will you tell us what happened between you and Mistress Malfoy, Harry?" The Gryffindor complied, feeling a little uneasy only when he left out the part about his parents.

Some things were better left unspoken.

* * *

The next day found Harry was sitting on the edge of his bed, fingering the crutches next to him unsteadily. Madame Pomfrey had been too busy with the others, especially Draco, to do anything about his leg until it was too late for magic to fix everything. He would have to wear the cast and use the crutches to keep the bone in place. In actuality, Harry was attempting to ignore the fact that he was totally alone in the Hospital Wing, save for the bed next to him, where one pale, unmoving Draco Malfoy lay. Madame Pomfrey had all but forced a sleeping draught down his throat, and when he had awoken that morning Blaise was gone. Pansy was waling gingerly on her newly-healed ankle, casting worried glances at Theodore, who had still not awoken and was later moved to what Harry supposed was a private suite. 

The Gryffindor was in the process of standing up on one wobbly foot, attempting to use his new secondary appendages when the doors were flung open. Hermione was across the room in a trice, standing over him with a chiding look upon her face.

"Harry James Potter!" she said, the color rising in her cheeks. "How _dare_ you leave us alone without telling us anything! _Ooh_, if Ginny hadn't told us after hearing from Blaise—" The threat hung empty in the air, as did Harry's head. It hung, I mean. It wasn't empty…I think.

Behind Hermione came Ron's sheepish face, followed up by Seamus, grinning jovially. "We ditched 'em somewhere in the fourth turn, an' on me 'eart I swear I saw 'Mione stunning 'em!"

"They were…going to tell the Headmaster…" Hermione said guiltily, wringing her hands. "I didn't want to get in trouble—and I didn't stun them, Seamus! I merely…er…leg-locked them, and then cast a silencing spell. They'll be fine."

"Unless some Slytherin happens upon them, in which case they're screwed. Ginny, at least." Harry enjoyed the way Ron's face colored at this revelation and the slack-jawed look on Hermione's visage before laughing.

"I missed you guys in the near twenty-four hour period I was here for!" Hermione scowled and tapped him under the chin with her balled-up fist.

"Don't joke, Harry. Ron very nearly wet himself wondering where you were."

"… _What!_"

"And you shouldn't go running off like that and attempting to die, Harry!" she said, pointedly ignoring Ron. Then her eyes narrowed. "And I'd like to know just what in the _hell_ you were doing! From what I've heard, you had that Malfoy woman with your wand at her throat. Harry, just because Voldemort's dead it doesn't mean you can lower your guard!"

Harry gaped, as realization hit him. Tynan had been powerless and he…had a wand. _A wand_. "Oh, Circe, I'm going to burn in Hades…" he moaned pitifully.

"Yes, Harry, yes you will." Hermione once again ignored the looks the three boys sent her. "You should have Stunned her, at the least! Gotten in a few good hits! Harry, for Merlin's sake, _you're gay_! There's no way in all of Hades that you were distracted just by that woman's features."

Harry squirmed uncomfortably, thinking about what Tynan had showed him in tha palm of her hand before he replied. "I have the feeling she would have dodged it anyway, 'Mione. She's just that good…and I'm sorry, really I am, and I swear I'll try harder next time! But—er—don't you guys have Potions right now?"

"With the bloody Slytherins!" Ron cried, throwing his hands in the air. Seamus' eyes lit up as he stared dreamily at the cling.

"Well, some of those Slytherins I wouldn't mind screaming bloody murder for…if you catch my drift…ow!" Seamus rubbed his head ruefully where Hermione had hit him with her knapsack. She turned back to Harry, apparently calm now that she had managed to take out her anger.

"You," she said, poking him in the chest. "You will be seeing us very soon, Harry James. We'll be coming back immediately after dinner, and don't think you can weasel your way out of this one—sorry, Ron."

She flipped her hair over the shoulder and grabbed both boys by the arm and dragged them out, berating both of them as they exited waving frantic goodbyes to Harry. The green-eyed boy grinned, shaking his head as he glanced over at Draco. The blonde had gone unnoticed and slept through all of it.

"You know something?" Harry said, rising once more with the aid of his crutches. "I think Hermione's just become so worried now she doesn't think if she acts like herself it'll help." He hobbled uncertainly over to the armchair conveniently situated next to Draco's bed, and sat down in it. "I think she's just acting mad because she can. Maybe she's been spending too much time with you, Head Boy."

The ghost of a smile flitted over Harry's face as he reached out a hand to push the bangs back from Draco's face, then immediately withdrew it. "Then again, we've all been spending a lot of time with you. What am I going to do?" Harry buried his head in his hands, more for theatrical effect than anything else.

_You could start by removing the damn crutches from my chest._

Harry started back, eyes wide. Draco was blinking wearily up at him, and had an equally puzzled expression on his face. "What's got you in such a tizzy, Potter?" His voice was too faint to hold any malevolence whatsoever, but it's meaning got by.

"Did you just—talk? About the crutches, I mean." Harry blushed as he stuttered horribly, taking the crutches off from where they had slipped onto Draco at the same time. The Slytherin frowned.

"I thought that. I didn't say it out loud."

"But I—heard it." Harry said weakly. "Think something else." He saw Draco's face scrunch up a little with the effort, but heard nothing. "What were you thinking?" he said irritably.

Draco pushed himself up, wincing as he did so. "I was wondering where the bloody nurse had gotten to."

**_Spoiled snobbish prat, _**thought Harry idly. Draco looked at him sharply.

"I am not!" he protested, and then blinked owlishly. A shamefaced smile made its way across his face. "You didn't say that, did you?"

"I think we have to be thinking direct things about the other," Harry replied offhandedly. "I suppose it's another bond." The Gryffindor missed the frown on the other boy's face as he closed his eyes, preparing for his next comment.

"Malfoy?"

"What, Potter?"

"You've lost a lot of blood."

"No, it's actually colored water."

Harry opened his eyes, cocking his head to the side. "How can you be such an arrogant prick? You're practically dying!" He instantly regretted saying it, however, when Draco sank back into the pillows, his hair flying around his face a little as he did so.

"I'm so far gone now, what would it matter?"

There was a moment of silence, before Harry reached out a tentative hand and tilted Draco's head towards him. Mercury orbs met emerald ones, as Harry leaned closer and smiled shyly. "You're not gone all the way, though, right?"

Draco automatically leaned into Harry's hold, before stopping just short. He had just realized what the other boy was about to do. "Not falling for it," he muttered. "You've got choices, Potter. Why the fuck do you keep making the wrong ones?"

"What are you talking about?" Harry moved his hand so that it was now tangled in the blond locks. "This is most definitely the right choice."

"You don't like being used."

Harry was shocked; how would he know that? Draco must have seen the confusion, for he offered a faint smirk. "Yeah, I know how you feel, Potter, ooh. It's not like it's not freaking obvious. You're not good at lying; or haven't you noticed?"

Harry mumbled something, and Draco moved a little closer. "What was that Potter?"

"I said," the Gryffindor repeated, color rising in his cheeks, "I did notice, but I try anyway." Draco let out a low chuckle.

"Nice to know you're so cavalier, Potter." Draco closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, it was only to see Harry's eyes right in front of his own.

"Give it up," the Slytherin protested softly. Harry smirked, something so reminiscent of Draco's it sent shivers down both their spines.

"Gryffindors _don't_ give up." He murmured, and then moved in, capturing Draco's lips with his own. Instantly, an urge so strong it nearly seemed natural overtook Draco.

_Bite, to bite, to bite it to live…to live is to see…to see is to see him…_

Draco opened his mouth in remonstration, but Harry's tongue slipped in, toying with the fangs, touching and pulling back almost in the same instant. The blonde moaned in proverbial ecstasy, straining unconsciously to get closer, and his hands wrapped around the other's waist. Almost in the same moment, Harry pulled back, eyes shining.

"Take my blood," he whispered. Draco met his eyes for a moment, and then placed a gentle kiss on Harry's lips. He wasted no time in moving down to Harry's neck, nuzzling it felinely before opening his mouth and sinking his fangs in, on the exact same spot as the marks before.

The strength began flooding back into him almost instantly as the blood flowed into his mouth and down his throat, both spicy and cold at the same time, unbearably good. It was the nectar of the gods, his ambrosia.

Harry was feeling the same tingling warmth go up and down his spine, paralyzing him on the outside; but on the inside, he was free, melting in and out of some interior spot in his mind. All around him was a falling curtain of something blurry and red—or was it pink? Fuzzy white blobs were there, too, and in the center of this image was the one thing Harry could see with acute vision.

_

* * *

Lily and James Potter were holding up a little baby Harry, about a year old, and as James put Harry on his knee, the boy reached up. He grabbed at a lock of his mother's hair and the locks fell from the messy bun they had been in, all three laughed. They seemed to be in a field of some sort, because they were all sitting on a picnic blanket. Lily was wearing a large straw hat, which instantaneously caught in the wind and floated away. Baby Harry stood as best as he could on his father's knee and reached for the hat, giggling childishly as his fingers caught the rim before the hat soared away, leaving the trio behind._

"**_Three, Harry, is my lucky number…"_**

* * *

Harry sat up with a start, but something held him back. 

"Thank the Gods you're awake, I was starting to get worried…"

The emerald-eyed boy turned over at the whisper. It was dark, and it took him a moment to see it was Draco, who was blinking groggily at him and had a tight hold around his waist.

"What happened?" Harry asked. His question was inaudible the first time, and he had to repeat it again before Draco could hear. Even in the dark, Harry could see the Slytherin's crimson cheeks.

"I may have taken a bit more than you were used to. You passed out a little while in and when I let off, you were sagging against the bedpost. Dumbledore and Pomfrey breezed in a moment later—"

"After you screamed your head off, no doubt," Harry said hoarsely.

"I did not scream! I still had my wand by my side, I just shot off a few messaging spells and they came. Jeez." Draco seemed indignant, and tired as he felt, Harry had to stifle a laugh.

"And then?" he prompted.

Draco sighed. "Your friends came in after Pomfrey put you into your own bed, and she told them not to wake you. They left but they're visiting tomorrow and Granger—" here he put on a mocking voice. "Granger walked over here when she saw me, and said she was so glad that I had helped your insolent little behind, and kissed me on the cheek before leaving. I did so enjoy the look on Weasel's face…"

There was a small sigh from the darkness, and Harry grinned wryly. "If Madame Pomfrey put me in my own bed, why're you here then?"

Another blush. "Don't you dare laugh at me, Potter, but I was worried. The last time something like this happened, you were out for a week and we both nearly died. I was—worried about you."

Harry was quiet for a moment, before inching a little closer. "I won't laugh," he promised. "But you can close your eyes now. I don't want you to lose sleep over me."

"I wasn't!"

"Tchah, sure."

"Potter…"

"G'night," Harry said quickly, closing his eyes and faking a snore. There was a puff of frustrated breath from Draco, causing Harry's bangs to fly forward. The Gryffindor tried hard not to laugh (again!) until Draco quieted down.

Then he was wide-awake, green eyes scanning the darkness, pondering over the awkward dream. Three was whose favorite number? The voice was familiar, he was sure. Irritated that he couldn't find the answer, Harry growled to himself. Abruptly, the half-asleep Draco pulled him closer, so that Harry was forced to let his chin rest in the crook of the other's neck.

"Sleep…" Draco breathed into Harry's hair.

The Gryffindor complied, thoughts of the strange dream put firmly aside for now.

* * *

...Well? Whatcha think? Wrote zis one while listening to Lunacy Fringe on repeat.

If you can tell me what the chapter title is a spinoff of, cookies to ya! (Hint: Panic!)

Bonzai, fluffles, and luff to: Dreaming-Sensations, xxaishiteru (Ooh, Harry's little SaveMeSaveMe act with Draco in it is gonna be dramatic, I'll tell you that! It involves silk ropes and broken angels...sigh...) Master Elora Dannan (There, I hope Hermione's rant made up for my terrible mistake! Your "way it really should have gone really brightened my day, thus, I copy and pasted it onto the crudittle below. Gracias muchos! And you were the only person who noticed the evil thing, but I'll let you in on a little secret; Tynan isn't as bad as everyone thinks!) Shania Maxwell, I Paint My Nails Black, MagicChic82 (Ya guessed right) Yana5, DestinyEntwinements, lemonkissesxoxo (if this was the end I'd have to kill myself, so no worries) AshleeBrooke (best chapter in fanfic history? You made me blush...thanks!) KerbydaughterofInuyasha (Hey, can you hook me up with your dad?) sphinx12

* * *

**Master Elora Dannan so kindly left me a review with how the whole damn scene with Tynan and Harry SHOULD have happened. I agree totally, even though M-chan says it was stupid that I snorted my milkshake while reading a review. Nyyyyyyyyahhhhhhhh to you, M-chan!**

**Convo:**

HARRY: straddles Tynan, holds wand to her throat Hola.

TYNAN: Oh, Mr. Potter...wiggles seductively

HARRY: I have a female fan club; take a number. But you'll be waiting for a while, considering I'm gay now.

TYNAN: You are?

HARRY: According to everyone else, yes.

TYNAN: Want me to help you with that? wiggles again

HARRY: Sorry, I don't think it would convince anyone at this point.

TYNAN: Ah, well. I shall make my incredibly-powerful escape now by distracting you with my wiggling hips. wiggles even more insistently

HARRY: Can't let you do that ma'am, as much as it would help with the gay image.

TYNAN: Hah! Weren't you listening? I am incredibly-powerful! No spell you cast can defeat me!

HARRY: Hello? Pointy stick at your jugular.

TYNAN: Oh, fiddle.

Harry jabs "pointy stick" (aka wand) into Tynan's throat. Tynan gags and passes out.

DRACO: gets up. Okay, I'm going to pretend I never fainted and glare at anyone who ever mentions it again.

HARRY: I hope you're not offended that I crushed your Aunt's voice box.

DRACO: As if...I mean, wait, no. clutches his stomach and moans Oh the pain...the horrible pain...I must have acceptance...

HARRY: Whoops. Guess I have to fix that, then.

DRACO: Okie-dokie!

drags Harry off into the bushes to do "things". Happy Ending and makeout session ensue. 

(Ach, had to type that all over again...stupid thing, won't let me copy and paste...HOW CAN I PLAGARIZE? HOOOOOOWWWW?)

* * *


	13. Does This Feel Wrong To You?

Disclaimer: Tchah. Are you joking?

* * *

_And we feel like rain  
When the words all sound the same  
In the lifeless corners of this empty frame  
Though we feel let down  
By the same old autumn breathing  
Winters curse is just around the bend  
With our hands all tied  
To the blades of their design  
We are armed and ready to commit this crime _

-Feel Like Rain- Motion City Soundtrack (Band)

* * *

**Does This Feel Wrong To You?  
issalee

* * *

**

The assembled Death Eaters milled about the ballroom in the rather secluded home of the late Regulus Black. Their talk was light, and chatter was filling the air. Were it not for the fact that they were all dressed in their Death Eater's robes, it would have seemed like a normal, airy cocktail party.

A sudden hush descended on the room as the ash double doors atop the huge double staircase opened. Out floated the ever-mad Bellatrix Black, wearing robes of black, normal wizarding ones. She faced the assemblage, leaning ever so slightly on the rail.

"Death Eaters!" she called. "Today is the dawning of the new day and age! Today, our Lord Voldemort will be avenged, and his successor will take in hand his goal in life, to eradicate those unfit to live in this world! Those who cannot be mingled with our kind!"

Bellatrix smiled, her red-painted lips standing out terribly across her wicked face. "I present to you, our new Dark Lord…Lucius Malfoy!"

The blonde, icy-eyed man strode regally out of the darkened room, and surveyed the quiet peoples below him. "You are all inferior, now," he said, smirking. "This is _my_ century, millennium, and age. You are all _mine_." He made a discreet motion behind him and brought out his final, secret weapon.

Tynan had dressed especially for this occasion. Her dress was such a deep red, it seemed as though her entire body was stained with blood. It was tight-fitting, beginning as what seemed to be a corset before lengthening. Her long hair was swept up into a bun with several tendrils falling gracefully from the holes of the net keeping it still. Small, perfumed roses dotted her golden locks. She was wearing a red, red, lipstick, and as she raised her hand so Lucius could kiss it, a single ruby ring glinted menacingly in the lamplight.

Lucius turned back to the obviously awed crowd. "My sister, Tynan Malfoy. Some of you, during the first war, may have known her more commonly as Crimson Tynan."

A loud buzzing sprang through the room, and behind Tynan's carefully orchestrated features, she smiled with glee. Obviously, she was well remembered and still feared.

Perfect.

Lucius silenced his new followers quickly, and began to address them. Bellatrix stood, still leaning upon the railing, observably lost in her own bloody musings. Tynan's mind began to wander.

This was what she had yearned for since she was a child; being a Malfoy meant much more than just marrying and raising more purebloods for the families to come. No, she had been special since the day she was born, and her parents knew it.

Lucius Malfoy was born on the fourteenth of December, on a cold, cold day and squalling like a normal babe. Near six years later, on the twenty-fifth of December, his younger sister Tynan Zayn Malfoy had been born, and no matter what the Healer had done, the babe hadn't cried until three weeks after she was born.

That was their first sign she wasn't normal.

The next came in rushed memories; blowing up and totally decimating the house of someone her _father_ was mad at, hanging every single doll by their necks with twine when she was mad at her friend, the mysteriously dead small pets that turned up whenever she was upset with someone…all this before she turned four. By that time it was obvious that with her wide blue eyes and honey-blonde hair she'd be even more beautiful than any of her other family members.

What Tynan remembered most of her childhood was the old crone who her parents had hired to teach her, afraid as they had been that someone might seek to take advantage of her. Their one mistake was in also letting the woman teach her the most advanced of spells, which she rapidly understood. During Lucius' last year at Hogwarts Tynan was tutoring him in the ways of magic and mystery, which he had never known.

So it came that one day, she knocked her teacher out with a few well-placed spells and snuck out of the house, following her big brother out to God knows where he was going. There, in a leaky pub, she first discovered the presence of Lord Voldemort. Her brother spoke in low whispers across the table to a powerfully built figure under a cloak, whom no one dared look twice at. Outside of the pub, after Lucius Disapparated, she had prepared to follow, but someone had grabbed her.

She spun to meet the cold, flat eyes staring at her; green, and hidden by a too long face. "Who are you?" The man asked her, nearly hissing the words out. Tynan immediately shook free of him, and placing her wand at his throat, narrowed her eyes.

"Who are _you_?"

She didn't know it then, but that question saved her life. Voldemort thought her amusing; he decided she would do well to join his rising ranks. Tynan accepted, unable to find an alternative at the moment and still in that curious stage of childhood. Besides; she felt strangely drawn to this man, as though she were meant to know him. This would come into play later.

She was eleven years old. Voldemort took her under his wing, a rare move for men of his disposition, and he taught her most everything her knew. She branched away from his brand of power, which was to live long and learn slowly. Tynan experimented with the magic of other creatures besides wizards, injecting and ingesting them, and as the blood of these other beings came into place, so did her Inheritance.

She was to become a veela six years later, but the transformation came early. She remembered the excruciating pain she felt, lying on the silk sheets of her bedroom in Malfoy Manor, writhing in agony as not only her veela characteristics came into place, but those of the beasts she had placed her. From Demiguise to Griffin (which she suspected the wings were from) she inherited their abilities, albeit watered down ones. She was still sane when she emerged from the room a full month later, aching and still weak, but ready to rend; it was the day before the first attack that sparked the First War.

Tynan remembered their formation; she in the front, right behind Voldemort, shrieking with joy behind her mask as she felt the blood rushing through her veins. She slashed out, using not just Avada Kedavra but spells that sorely wounded or bloodied. She did not enjoy quick jobs. These were the murders kept out of the newspapers, for fear of total chaos, but everyone knew her.

The madness came much later, only a few weeks before the fall of the Potters. Voldemort called her to him, and as she entered the room, smirking, she was immediately struck down. Robes snaked around her, binding her around the waist. She didn't struggle, instead watching with a scowl on her perfect face, aching to scratch and bite, but holding herself back.

_

* * *

Voldemort approached her slowly, wand still raised. "How is it," he whispered, as he bent to see her better. "That you somehow managed to do such things?"_

"_You're a bastard," she snapped. "I know why I'm here. Avery's been complaining about it for ages now—I'm showing off in the field, killing too slowly…"_

"_That's not it." Voldemort said, apparently unperturbed about her words. "You've been trying to accelerate your powers into maturing, forcing them beyond their point; you've nearly succeeded, have you not?" At her shocked look, he tapped the side of his head._

"_I know much more than you think, Malfoy." The bindings slithered back, and she grabbed the side of his head, as though she was going to smash it against the wall. _(A/N: He still looks like Tom Riddle here, so…think of him as Hotness, not Snaky-ness) _Voldemort pulled a little away, and their lips met._

_Tynan pulled away first, smiling a little dazedly. "You're my Intended? All you wanted was a kiss?"_

"_No." The Dark Lord stood, offering a hand to her. She took it willingly, and he wrapped an arm around her waist as he spoke in low, velvety tones, the same tones he would later use on one Ginevra Weasley. "I want you to stop what you're attempting to do."_

_Tynan stiffened in his arms and attempted to push him away, but he only held on tightly. She felt his wand pressing into the nape of her neck, and she cursed herself for leaving hers in the waistband of her pants. Voldemort smirked evilly._

"_I don't want to have to use force. Understand, I feel the pull, but I can easily ignore it. The Veela is not in _my _blood. All that is needed is a simple draining of some of the magic you have in you. I can't have anyone be stronger than me, you see?"_

_She reeled back, as though stunned, and he loosened his grip. It proved to be a mistake as in a moment; she had smacked him and was holding her wand as his throat, eyes narrowed. "I hope I never see you again," she hissed. "I hope your blood boils long and hard in your veins—your conquests will never be true ones!"_

"Crucio!" _Voldemort shouted angrily, and as the blonde fell to the floor, screaming with the force of the spell, he kicked at her repeatedly. "You're a stupid slut! You don't understand anything, do you? I'm older—wiser—and I'll always be better!" He flicked his hair from his eyes, panting heavily, and nodded shortly at her._

"_Stay here until you've learned your lesson." Voldemort said. He swept out of the room, slamming the door behind him and without removing the spell._

* * *

In the dimmed lighting of the large ballroom, Tynan's hooded eyes narrowed just as they had that fateful day. Lucius' voice was still ringing in his big, booming tones, and as she straightened up a little self-consciously, a fresh wave of hate hit her. 

How _dare_ that self repressed little prick who called himself Lord Voldemort do that to her, just because he didn't get hugged enough as a child or something? He had kept her under the curse for three consecutive days, and by that time, she'd managed to reach the peak of her powers in an attempt to reduce the pain. Most of her magic had fled her body, and it was another two weeks before she could even perform a simple cleaning spell, and by then it was obvious her mind was shattered. That hadn't stopped Voldemort from taking her along with him on the Potter's raid.

The night before, Tynan had performed the same spell on herself that she'd just recently tried on Draco. Her ball of pinkish mist had been effectively destroyed.

She never regretted a moment.

Lucius was startled, to say the least, when midway through his speech his sister pushed past him and raised a fist in the air, eyes gleaming.

"We will rise up and eliminate the opposing forces! Death Eaters, _join under me_!" She cried. Her voice was caught up in the roars of approval and shouts of joy. Tynan turned back to Lucius, gathering her skirts around her knees in an impatient motion.

"You talk too much," she snapped. "Tell them to prepare; our first raid is tomorrow."

"So soon?" Lucius asked, surprised. "We haven't even planned—"

"I have." Tynan replied curtly. "And we'll discuss it later, but for now, just tell them. I have a score to settle with some old fools at that school you went to…"

"I want to help."

Both siblings turned to Bellatrix, who had straightened up. Her face was emotionless, but Tynan didn't miss the nervous tugging on the woman's sleeves. "I want to help, I—think I already know where this is going, anyways."

"Of course, Bella!" Tynan cried, grasping the older woman's arm. "Let's go, then, planning to be done." She dragged Bellatrix away, chatting as though they were old friends. Lucius rolled his eyes and turned back to the quieting crowd.

Lucius wasn't stupid. He knew what it was his sister wanted, what she had been ranting about doing since Voldemort was in power.

"My friends," he said, raising his hand. "Tomorrow, at first light, we attack Hogwarts!"

The cheering was deafening.

* * *

Draco awoke slowly, yawning widely as he opened his eyes. He was lying against something that felt amazingly comfortable, and he strained to move closer to it, but found he couldn't. His eyes grew wider as he realized what exactly his comfort object was. 

He was lying in a very awkward position; Harry had his arms firmly wrapped about the blonde's waist, and Draco's legs were entangled in Harry's. The Gryffindor had his head resting on Draco's abdomen.

Draco wouldn't have wakened Harry, if one nagging worry weren't still on his mind. "Harry…" he whispered, running his fingers through the other boy's soft raven locks. "Potter, wake up. _Potter_…"

Harry nestled his head even farther into Draco's stomach, oblivious to everything (which meant he was the same asleep as awake). "Back to sleep…" he mumbled.

"Potter, we _can't_. It's a Thursday. Quidditch practice for Ravenclaw—they booked the field today."

"How…know?"

"I'm Head Boy. It's my job!" Draco squirmed a little. "Potter…if someone gets hurt or something and comes in and finds us like this…stop that!"

Harry was sighing softly every time he thought up a reason for him not to stay in such a cozy arrangement, and had unknowingly discovered Draco's secret: The Slytherin was ticklish.

"Ha—ha—ha—hahaha!" Draco wheezed, fighting to push Harry away. The raven-haired boy only smiled wryly and continued, adding his fingers to the mix. He only stopped when Draco shifted backwards, causing Harry to lose his source of warmth. Before he could start bemoaning this, however, he felt rather than saw Draco's body stiffen.

"What's wrong?" he asked, reflexively.

There was a moment of silence, before Draco turned back to him, gray eyes flashing with something close to disdain. "Don't you think it's weird, Potter, that we've suddenly become such great friends? Didn't you ever think of that?"

"Of course I did!" Harry said, surprised. Then he frowned. "Well…I only actually thought about that after the whole rejection thing but I haven't really had time to think about it until now."

"And what _do_ you think?"

Harry drew back, sitting up and hugging his knees to his chest. "I don't know what to think anymore," he admitted. "I suppose I was just trying to save your life at first, and then it became more about—" he trailed off, leaving the statement unfinished.

Draco sat up too, looking more amused than anything else. "It became more about what? I was thinking last night, Potter, while you were sleeping."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Draco ground out, "That we're progressing pretty quickly, even though we're supposed to be mates. I haven't even honed a quarter of my powers!" Harry's eyes flashed, angry as he was, but he kept his voice cool as he answered.

"And is that supposed to be my fault? Come on, Malfoy. Think about it yourself, don't expect other people keep trying to find the answer!" he finished irritably.

Draco was quiet for a second before he smirked. "Maybe we're vying so hard for this because it's something we _need_ right now." His smirk faltered, and was replaced by a sort of mournful look. " 'If you are willing to admit your faults, you have one less fault to admit'".

Draco looked up at Harry, the Malfoy mask carefully fitted in place. "Tell me, Potter, do I have any faults?"

"Oh, sure, you're conceited, arrogant, snobby, a prat, evil at times, and utterly loathsome—"

"Ok!" Draco interrupted, with the corners of his mouth twitching. "But I mean faults that are more theoretical than—er…whatever it was you were listing. You, for example, are very naïve. You think everything's always going to end up great if you try your best, and _save_ everyone."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Draco held up his hand. "And I, Potter, am merely way too cynical for my own good. I don't believe in happy endings, I am so paranoid I believe there's a conspiracy involving the house-elves and our food, and I have no trust for anyone."

He smiled bitterly. "Not as good a match as everyone thinks, eh?" Draco swung his legs over the bed and walked over to his own, rummaging through a knapsack next to it, and drew out clothes. He went a little deeper and found his wand, all of these courtesy of Blaise and Pansy.

"You're right, Malfoy." Harry said, startling Draco so that he nearly dropped the clothes he was clutching. "We aren't such a great match. And we sure as hell aren't a willing one either. But we weren't complaining a few hours ago, were we?"

Draco turned around and found Harry to be grinning wryly at him, chin resting on a palm, elbow resting on his leg, and his other hand running through his hair. "I mean, people always say opposites attract."

Two dots of pink appeared on Draco's cheeks, and tucked strands of his hair behind his ears. At a momentary loss, he merely shoved on his slacks and shirt, stuffing his hospital robes under the pillow.

"Tell Pomfrey I left." He said shortly, still fuming as he stalked out of the Hospital Wing. Harry watched him go, green eyes sparkling. He flopped back onto the bed, smirking a little.

**Shall I tell her you're a sore loser as well?**

The mental shriek that was abruptly cut off made him give full vent to his amusement. The Hospital Wing echoed with gleeful laughter.

* * *

Draco stalked down the hall, cold-eyed and shaking with fury as strings of obscenities flowed from his mouth. 

"Nice to see you stomping around."

He spun around, wand raised and ready to hex whoever had made the comment to oblivion and back again, but when he saw who it was, his wand was lowered and a true, grateful smile spread across his face.

Luna Lovegood was smiling dreamily at him. Today she had donned robes of the lightest purple, with dark purple radishes adorning the cloth. Her earrings were a pair of grapefruit juice bottles she'd been given by a Muggle friend and shrunken down. Her wand had forgone its usual place behind her ear and today seemed to be enamored with her belt hook, which was actually a black sash with several loose threads, and she was wearing purple ankle boots of what Draco suspected was Puffskein fur. He wondered for the nth time how she managed to get away with the outfit.

"Nice to see you too, Loony."

Luna smiled, not at all upset. "Oh, Draconis, must you always be so glibly mean? You're quite nice, I should know. Why haven't you visited me?"

Draco frowned. "I'm sorry, but it's been quite hectic for me."

"You just apologized."

Draco blinked. "Er…yeah."

Luna smiled kindly at him. "Oh, it's such a good influence Harry's been having on you, Draconis! You've been smiling more, I see, as your frown lines have disappeared."

"I had _frown lines_?" Draco said, kneading his forehead gently. Luna floated over to him and patted his arm gently. "Nothing to worry about," she said. "We all love you, anyways. Blaise told me what happened."

"He's a walking _Daily Prophet_," Draco said bitterly. "I should crack him over the head and make him scatterbrained."

"Don't blame him, dear…" Luna said absentmindedly, eyes glazed over. "He was just trying to help. He found me camped outside of the Hospital Wing and waiting for your return; you worried me, you great brute."

Draco nearly dropped his knapsack in shock. Luna _never_ called anyone names, even as a joke. It was then that he realized her wide blue eyes were a little misty; she was probably holding back tears. Draco reached out a hand, pushing back her hair a little awkwardly.

"Loony, don't cry over me. I'm trash, I don't deserve it."

She shook her head, and in a show of sudden down to earthy-ness, she lunged and hugged him. "Everyone needs someone to cry over them! You especially, Draconis." The corners of his mouth twitched upwards, and she drew back, eyes wider than before.

"Oh, Draconis, this is a monumental event! We're skipping breakfast today; you've just smiled! We're going out to the lake, I wanted to ask the giant squid if she had seen any Snacklers lurking about under the water. They're parasites, feeding off of other animals," she said wisely.

"You can understand the squid?" Draco asked, thinking of what the beast had been whispering to him in the rain-drenched days behind him.

"Oh, no, but I pretend." The corners of Luna's eyes crinkled as she took his hand. "Besides, I think you owe her a thank you for saving you and Harry."

"It's a she?"

"Of course!" Luna exclaimed as she dragged him down the hallway. "What else would you expect? Boys don't have babies, you know. I learned that very recently," she said seriously.

Draco eyed her for a moment, before curiosity overtook him. "It—she has babies?"

"Oh, no! She's too young. But she says she will when she finds a mate." Luna sighed pensively. "Mayhaps I'll find a mate too, Draconis?"

"I pity the man…"

"What was that?" Luna turned to him, head cocked to the side. Draco shook his head. "I didn't say anything. It was nothing."

"Than let's _go_!" she said, pulling at him even more as they trudged down the hall, his snide remarks and her dismissive laughter floating in the air around them.

* * *

Tynan surveyed the Forbidden Forest's outer fringe distastefully. They were miles and miles away from Hogwarts, but here was where her plan had to begin. She could easily get through the wards by herself, but she was brining along with her near hundreds of Death Eaters, and not all of them were present yet. 

"Are you ready?" Lucius asked from her side. "Do you remember the plan?"

"I made it," she said petulantly. "How could I forget? You take your group and go through when I open the wards, and then distract the old fool. Bellatrix and I go through the weakened wards with our groups and split up, and attack the school."

Lucius glanced down at her, amused. "You don't sound happy. Aren't you just gleeful that you'll get to attack helpless, innocent children?"

"I'm ecstatic," Tynan murmured. Next to her, Bellatrix looked the picture, gripping her wand tightly with a feral grin on her face. The younger Malfoy steeled herself against the oncoming wave of pity she felt for the Black, and turned to her brother.

"Are _you_ ready?"

Lucius opened his mouth, and then shut it. A flash of worry crossed in his eyes and he leaned closer to his sister. "Are you absolutely sure you sent out a notice to Draco? All the other Death Eaters have their sons and daughters waiting for them at the pickup site but are you _sure_ Draco knows?"

Tynan nearly laughed. Her brother wasn't worried about Draco because he was his son; it was something more like producing an heir, she supposed. "Brother," she said, smiling. "Does it really matter if I did or didn't? You can always procreate, ugly as you are, and get another."

"Is he coming or not?" Lucius hissed, eyes narrowed and hands gripping her shoulders tightly. Tynan frowned at him, picking off his hands with her own delicate looking but strong ones.

"That, Lucy, depends on whether or not he is faithful."

She watched him carefully after this statement. He had two choices; to go after the hated childhood nickname and revert to normal behavior? Or to grouse about the lazy protection of his son, thus putting his new position in danger. Lucius' face was contorted for a moment, before he turned from her, robes whipping near her face. When he looked back, his Death Eater's mask was firmly in place, hiding his grief-stricken face.

"Attack the wards."

Tynan raised an eyebrow, motioning for Bellatrix to raise her wand also. "Are you sure?" she called over to her brother. He nodded coolly, and she, smirking, cried the incantation with Bellatrix and the other hundred-something Death Eaters.

"_Tutela Abeo! Tutela Abeo! Deliquesco!_"

Silver and gold strands rushed from their wand tips. The very air around them crackled with the force of the magic, and Tynan felt the rush of power go straight through her blood. She shrieked the words higher, faster, louder, and as her followers (she thought of them as such; Lucius wouldn't be around much longer, anyways) chanted along with her, her wings ripped through the cloth of the crimson cloak she had on to protect her dress. She had no mask; she was not afraid of justice.

A multicolored wall appeared, echoing with every hit. Behind it, several dark and gaunt faces were seen, fear hidden in their eyes. They fled quickly, however, as a loud ripping sound was heard. Tynan's power combined with the masses was shredding the wards, which had not been reinforced in a while anyway, to shreds.

Several large holes became visible in the rainbow-ish wall, and Lucius flashed a triumphant smile. "We attack!" he roared, and charged in. His horde followed him, thundering and cheering, forgoing all pretenses of being afraid.

Bellatrix and her cluster followed quickly and quietly, melting off into the shadows and heading to the right so they could circle around the school. Last came Tynan's assemblage, followed by Tynan herself. They stopped their chanting, sweating slightly with the force it had taken, and watched as the wall folded over itself. Flaps still hung open, sliced beyond repair, and Tynan smiled joyfully as she turned to face her entourage.

"Death Eaters," she crowed. "Welcome to Hogwarts!"

* * *

Draco and Luna were walking towards the lake when they heard someone call the former's name. They turned, and found Chloris, Carleigh and Carina flouncing down to them. 

"Three-C," Luna greeted them cheerfully. Carleigh rolled her eyes, but Carina and Chloris returned her greeting. All three of them nearly smothered Draco, even Chloris, as they hugged him simultaneously.

"Nice to see you too," he gasped. "What're you doing out her?" he asked as they continued down to the lake.

"We—are mad," Carina explained as she flopped down by the lakes edge. Carleigh pushed her aside and took the spot, stretching as she continued for her friend.

"Blaise has been so caught up with courting Ginevra and vice-versa, we don't even have any time to prank him! Or tease! And Pansy's mourning cause Theo hit an oak tree while she hit a willow, so he's down for another few days."

"Love sucks," Chloris said wisely as she declined the ground totally and shimmied up the low branches of a weeping willow tree, nestling in the crook of them to read the book she had dragged along.

Luna grinned up at her. "It does not! It's a beautiful thing. Look at Draco; he's in love, and he's being," here she looked around, as though afraid someone might hear her, and lowered her voice. "He's being _nice_!"

The girls giggled whilst Draco looked sour. "I am not in love. Malfoys don't love; they put up with it." Carleigh rolled her eyes at him and threw a dirt clod, smiling as he ducked.

"You're in love, you stupid prat! Just admit it!" Draco opened his mouth, cheeks red, but Carina put up her hand. She stood up from the ground, and pointed across the lake.

"Does anybody hear that?" she whispered.

There was silence as everyone listened, and indeed, they noticed. There was an odd lack of sound coming from the Forest and its surroundings, as well as creatures. But even lower was a small buzzing of noise, sounding more and more like—

"Screaming!" Carleigh said, eyes wide. "Somebody's screaming!"

Draco's sharp eyes scanned the lakeside, and he saw flashes of light and felt the small, inconspicuous bursts of magic from across the other side. He waved a hand at Luna, who had stiffened next to him.

"Go get a teacher!" he hissed fiercely. "Snape, Dumbledore, Flitwick, anyone! Find them, now!" The Ravenclaw hesitated for the merest of moments, before Draco whirled on her, rage evident on his features.

"Now! And take the girls with you!" he cried.

"What?" Carleigh asked, askance. "No way! If there's something going on, I want to find out what it is!" She took of running, and a moment later, her twin had dropped down from the tree.

"Carleigh!" Chloris shrieked. "Come back!" The Slytherin girl seemed at a loss for a moment, before looking back and forth helplessly between the school and her sister's form. Than she too, started sprinting.

"No!" Draco yelled. "No!" He lunged for Carina, who he was sure would follow, but she was already gone. "Go to Dumbledore!" he tossed over his shoulder to Luna, and then took off.

Luna, stunned, stood there for a moment. Then a high and frantic wailing filled the air, and she took a step back. Then another, and another, and another. Overcome with fear and worry, she took off running, heading for the nearest sanctuary, and nearest savior.

* * *

Harry was sitting up in his bed, smiling. Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean, Neville and Ginny had all taken it into their heads to skip breakfast in the Great Hall and bring it to him. He was greatly pleased, of course, and as he ate his strawberry (of course) pancakes, he chatted gaily with them. They, in turn, were overjoyed that Draco had left so they could eat in peace (except for Ginny, who was a true friend, and Hermione, who was empathic). 

"So," Seamus was saying. "Me sister looks at me mum an' says, "Marry 'im? I'd sooner marry Dennis Rodman!'" Harry, Hermione and Ginny giggled, while everyone else looked at a loss. Ginny glanced around and her laughter faded a little.

"It's a Muggle thing," she said sheepishly, and picked at her bacon. "Yeesh."

Harry winked at her. "All right, Gin. We're just smarter than them, is all." Ron shoved him and the green-eyed boy lost his balance, falling off the bed and onto the floor.

"My foot!" he yelped, grasping at his cast. Ron looked guilty, whilst Hermione raised a threatening finger. Before anything could start, however, the doors burst open. Harry raised himself up using his crutches, and stared in amazement at an extremely disheveled and frightened looking Luna Lovegood.

"Luna?" he said. "What's wrong?"

"Draconis!" she gasped. "Chloris, Carina, Carleigh!" There was a sudden, earsplitting clapping sound, like thunder, and everyone looked over as a huge burst of green smoke went up, blanketing an area in the Forbidden Forest.

Luna pointed her finger at it. "Out there!"

Harry hobbled to the window, eyes wide as he saw Dumbledore sitting astride a broom (first time he'd seen it) and zipping into the woods. Hagrid, going at a loping run with Fang at his side, followed him closely this time.

"We're going out there," he announced, heart thumping in his chest.

"You're using crutches. You have a cast," Hermione told him, looking panicked. "You can't!" Harry faced her, eyes steely.

"You know a spell," he said, almost accusingly. "At least something temporary. Madame Pomfrey wouldn't have wanted it if it wasn't permanent, but there must be something temporary."

"Harry," Hermione tried, but he silence her with an utterly serious look.

"Hermione, please. There are people out there that Dumbledore doesn't know about! He could miss them!" The bushy-haired girl looked doubtful, until he clumped over to her and grabbed her hands in his, eyes misty.

"Please?"

There was silence for a moment as everyone held his or her breaths, but then Hermione sighed. She took her wand from her sleeved and leaned down slightly to tap his leg, muttering under her breath. The cast disappeared, and Harry tapped his heel on the floor experimentally. No pain.

"Right," he said, dropping the crutches and pulling on his sneakers. "Everyone stay here. I'll be back shortly."

"Such a Hero Complex," Ginny said shortly. She ignored Ron, who was glaring at her fierily, and stalked over to Harry's side. "We're coming with you. No buts!" she said, stifling his protest. "Or Hermione takes off the spell."

Harry glanced to his friend, who nodded, brown eyes gleaming. "Fine," he sighed. "But we've got to hurry and be careful! I don't want anyone to get hit!"

They all agreed and filed out, even Luna, who by now had calmed down enough to whisper to Ginny as the passed, "I wonder if we can have some of those pancakes Harry was eating when we get back."

She was to be sorely disappointed.

* * *

Oh, Gods, sorry no review replies. At the moment, am in process of...er...well it involves a Panic! At The Disco CD burned fpr me by Solizle, my parents not letting me go get the damn thing, me deciding to sneak out, Nikki-chan and M-chan getting involved so...well, I have espionage to do, and they're already yelling at me to get up and go already, while my parents are distracted by The Manchurian Candidate. THANK YOU, DENZEL!  



	14. The Forest Brings No Lies, Only Illusion

Disclaimer: _Stop teasing me!_ I'm starting to feel depressed. (**Sigh**) I don't own it, peoples.

* * *

_A woman in a purple sari crying._

_The size of a goodbye. _

-Habibi- Naomi Shihab Nye (It's a novel (And a good one, at that))

* * *

**The Forest Brings No Lies, Only Illusions**

**issalee

* * *

**

The woods were dark and smelled of acrid smoke as Draco plunged through them, ignoring the roaring and pounding that had escalated as he went further in. Ahead of him he could see nothing; he was suddenly thankful for his Urian skills, which enabled him to see farther, and faster. He could feel his wings yearning to get out, thrumming with the force of the magic on the air.

"Over here, Edgewick!" Someone shouted startlingly close to him. Draco jumped sideways, landing in an ungainly heap inside a bush, just as two men appeared in the area he had just vacated. Both of them were unrecognizable from the Death Eater gear, but their voices were deep, one brusquer than the other.

"I thought you said you saw something," the brusque one said. "Merolt, you fool, if you've alerted anyone to our presence the Dark Lord will have your head off."

"Oh, shut up," snapped Merolt. "It's not like you're doing anything! Besides, I know I saw someone here a moment ago. Looked sort of like Lu—"

"Don't say his name!" Edgewick hissed. He sighed, as though in exasperation. "Listen, let's go. If you were right, whoever went in won't get far anyways. Crimson will soon change that."

Merolt laughed along with his companion, but as they moved off, the laughter faded quickly into tense silence. Draco waited only a moment before bolting off the way they had come from. He had to find the girls; it was his primary concern, not his own safety.

Something spun through the air, striking the tree next to him before falling at his feet Draco hesitated, and only when he heard a loudly shouted spell did he retreat back into the shadows. He moved on the fringe of the forest's trees, keeping close to the trees and flattening himself, treading lightly so that the only sound he heard was his own breathing. He approached a small clearing in the woods, and held his breath as he peered around a tree. The breath was immediately sent out in a soft gasp.

Several Death Eaters had surrounded Chloris and Carleigh, as well as a single, bloodied and bruised centaur. One of the Death Eaters (a woman, it looked like) was pinning the wriggling centaur down with silvery strands protruding from her wand. Carleigh, on the other hand, was leaning over the still form of her twin, eyes wide and glassy.

"Can I kill the beast?" A man asked from the circle.

"Hush, McNair." The woman replied. Draco started; but it couldn't be the same one he knew! "We have to wait for the Dark Lord to come and tell us what to do with _these_ two girls, but the beast, I want to get rid of. You're always knocking off animals, anyway."

"Aren't those Ernestine's kids?" Another small, pitiful voice piped up. A squat, short form with ill-fitting robes stumbled closer to the two. Draco automatically curled his lip in disgust. "Shouldn't we be leaving them at the drop point?"

"Stupid." The woman said, idly tightening her wand's hold on the centaur, who only grunted and ignored the fresh blood that came pouring out. "If Ernestine cared for his kids, than he would've sent the letters like we told him too. I suppose _you_ lot sent yours?"

A few scattered heads nodded. McNair stepped up again, voice bitter. "Yeah, the Dark Lord told me to give 'em to his sister. She's sending them, but she warned us that when she visited a couple days back that some they were supposed to be at the drop site already. It's on the _other_ side of the school."

"So what?" The short figure asked. "Are these kids traitors?" He suddenly kicked out cruelly at Carleigh's form, but before Draco could lunge into the fray, another Death Eater had pushed him away.

"Wormtail, you idiot!" The woman roared. "Traitors they may be, but you've already done in one! I hope Crimson gets her hands on you, and I'll watch as you writhe in the wake of her Cruciatus!"

"Oh, Gods, shut up, Sidney." McNair muttered, pulling off his mask. Draco's eyes narrowed. It _was_ the same McNair. The man wiped a bead of sweat from his face. "Obviously, we've got no use for these kids. Yeah, Ernestine's hooked on 'em, but it won't make much of a difference. Kill 'er and the beast, and then we can go."

"Yeah," someone else said. "We're supposed to be at the school by now!" The woman held up her free hand as though she was about to make a rude gesture, but then sudden cries took up in the air.

"Those aren't coming from the school," McNair swore, looking to his left. "They've sent out the old man already. All right, you lot, come with me! We're heading for the school, like we're supposed to! Sidney, you can get rid of those two."

The Death Eaters quickly took off, as though they didn't want to be caught near the two anymore. Wormtail lingered for a moment; head tilted in the general direction of Sidney's face, as though pleading.

"Nice way to get at them, Miss Sidney!" he praised. The woman kicked out at him, and as he fell, squirming, she pointed her wand at Carleigh.

"Here, Wormtail, you old suck up. I'm going to show you how to kill someone."

Draco didn't waste a second. He all but flew out of his hiding place; giving Sidney no warning so that when he hit her she could do nothing but scream as she fell. Draco held his wand to her face, between her eyes, and growled at her.

"Leave, now, or die."

She seemed shocked for a moment, before laughing shortly. "Oh, Lucius Malfoy's son, are we? Do you know your father's secret, boy?" she asked, peering up at his face. It stayed emotionless, and she was sorely disappointed if she had expected an answer.

"Is the other one alive?" He asked, indicating, Chloris, whose prone shape Carleigh was still leaning over, but now she was also watching Draco. Sidney kept her lips pursed tight, saying nothing. Draco opened his mouth, but then a large weight slammed into his side.

He fell to the ground, wheezing as he half sat up. Sidney was already up, and she nodded curtly to Wormtail, who lay gasping in front of Draco, Draco's wand in his grubby fingers. Sidney pointed her wand at Draco, eyes cold.

"I'm sure Lucius won't mind," she said, "If his line were to be diminished a little early. Who knows? With Narcissa out of the way, he has a lot of people to pick from…like me…"

The blood pounded in Draco's veins, and he stood up quickly, pushing Wormtail away and grabbing his wand in the same motion. Sidney's figure stiffened, and she began the shouted Avada, but Draco was already running towards her. His wings ripped his shirt, spreading wide as he lunged, screaming the same spell.

There was a lapse in noise for a moment afterwards, and Carleigh seemed to wake up from whatever catatonic state she had been in. "Draco?" she whispered, looking at the still bodies in front of her. She shrieked as her hair was jerked upwards. Wormtail was holding onto her head, licking his lips nervously. His mask was gone.

Carleigh glared at him, and the dark wand he held in his hand. "That's mine, you pig! Give it back!" Wormtail shook his head, eyes darting about.

"Can't…can't," he said quietly. "People might come, might see. You'll tell them, won't you? You'll tell them! I don't—no Azkaban!" He pushed the wand to her temple and she squeezed her eyes shut, as well as her sister's pale hand.

"_Avada Kedavra._"

A second later, Carleigh opened her eyes. Wormtail keeled over, letting go of her hair. The Slytherin turned around and saw Draco, shaking with anger, striding over to her and lowering his wand.

"Is Chloris ok?" he asked, dropping down next to her. Carleigh hesitated for a moment, before pointing to the centaur next to her. Draco nodded carefully. "Of course." He muttered the counter-curse and watched as the centaur sat up, rubbing its body with dirt so as to staunch the flow of blood. He nodded to Draco.

"These two were running towards the Death Eaters. I stopped them, and they were turning back until these people surrounded us. I thank you; we centaurs owe you."

"Owe me?" Draco asked, surprised.

"Yes," the centaur replied, although it looked uncomfortable. "I have lost my weapons else I'd swear upon them, but you have saved the leader of the centaurs, child. I am Orion."

"Draco Malfoy," he replied. "What happened to her?" He asked again, pointing to Chloris. Orion's features darkened.

"The one you just killed—the man, he came swinging out with his wand. He shouted a spell and a light came, knocking her into one of the trees. There was a loud snapping noise. Methinks she has broken her spine; she cannot still live."

Draco was at a loss for words, but Carleigh only turned hooded eyes toward them. "Back to the school," she said softly. "Carina was heading back before us. She told us to wait but we wouldn't and she shouted she was going to go get you."

"Than let's go." Draco said. "Coming?" he asked Orion. The centaur snorted, pawing the ground. "I cannot. My people are still in here. I must help them." He pricked up his ears. "I hear more approaching. Go now, Master Malfoy."

Draco needed no second bidding. He grabbed Carleigh's hand, dragging her along and ignoring her protests. "Her body—," she shrieked. "I want to get her body!"

Draco turned, eyes angry. "You've done enough, don't you, by running in here. Come on now, unless you want _me_ to die too!" That made her fall silent.

They continued their run in silence.

* * *

The first thing Harry was aware of as he and his group spilled out onto the Hogwarts grounds was the total lack of quiet. The grounds usually had _one_ area where someone could relax, but here the noise was cacophonic. 

"Harry!" Hermione whispered, just next to him. "Look! They're sneaking around!"

And sure enough, there was a group of Death Eaters circling the other side of the school, moving with wraith-like silence. Leading them was the one Death Eater without a mask on; Bellatrix Lestrange.

Harry's eyes burned with a quiet force. "She's going to die," he said, already starting for her position, but Luna suddenly grabbed his arm.

"The teachers!" she said, her voice a little high. "What if we get the teachers? They need—they need to know this. The Headmaster's inside of the Forest, and we're the only ones here."

"Not for long," Ginny murmured, squeezing back and closer to her brother. She was looking off to the other direction, where several Death Eaters were starting to emerge. The redhead's eyes narrowed. "There's a woman in a red dress there…"

"Neville," Harry said suddenly. "We need to find the people still in the Forest. Draco, Carina, Carleigh and Chloris." He looked almost wistfully to where Bellatrix was still hovering on the edge of the Forest with her group, not having noticed them, as they were still under the alcove of the doors.

Neville looked frightened. "Just me and you, Harry?" The green-eyed Gryffindor shook his head, mind working quickly.

"No. You're leading a group. Ginny and Luna, go with Neville back inside of the school. You alert the teachers, and then Luna, I want you to barricade the doors. You were really good with levitating spells," he reassured her. "You're the most advanced of you three."

Luna faltered, but then nodded. She, Neville and Ginny quickly turned around and ran back inside. Harry turned to his now diminished friends, frowning. "Ron, take Seamus and Dean. I want you two to get inside of Hagrid's hut. Fire off some spells from there, but _stay hidden_, ok? We'll meet back there, if anything. Don't open the door unless it's me or a teacher. I'm sure there are protective spells on the hut; it's part of Hogwarts, too."

Ron dawdled for a moment. "Harry, mate, if anything goes wrong—"

"Nothing will happen," Harry out in forcefully. "We're all going to come out of this fine. We've been through worse, before, remember?" He was talking about the War. Hermione stepped up, and gave Ron a peck on the cheek. The redhead blushed, but quickly regained his composure and slunk off, keeping low with Dean and Seamus as they made their way across.

Harry turned to Hermione, smiling grimly. "Just you and me, right, 'Mione?"

She smiled back, but this one was just as fake. "Yeah, Harry. Sure. Are we going to stop the group over there, or head for the Forest?"

"The Forest first," Harry said. His eyes scanned the crowd led by the red-robed woman, still too far away for him to recognize her. "Let's go."

They crouched low, walking with their cloaks spread over their bodies and darting behind trees.

Neither of them wanted to be the first spotted.

* * *

Draco and Carleigh were hopelessly lost. 

In the Slytherin boy's frantic rushing to just find the girls, he had totally forgotten the way he'd went, and strayed off the path. The screams and cries of the Forest's inhabitants could still be heard every often, but it was coupled by a new sound; that of students laughing, and a little cheering. Draco retracted his wings (with just a little difficulty) and plodded on.

They emerged from the forest a little moment later, and Draco nearly smacked his forehead in frustration. The Ravenclaw quidditch team was still flying high, a few of them playing around, but the captain was scanning the forest with worried eyes. He was Roger Davies' younger brother, Richard.

"Richie!" someone shouted, pointing down to them. Draco watched with wary eyes as the captain immediately flew down to them, looking more worried than suspicious. Draco was suddenly very glad this was Ravenclaw and not a Hufflepuff or Gryffindor practice.

"What's going on, Malfoy?" The dark-haired boy asked. His light blue eyes flicked nervously across Carleigh (on whom it was obvious he had had a crush on for years) before he asked another question. "Are you two ok?"

"We're fine," Draco said shortly. "But the school's being attacked by Death Eaters. We need you to get your team and the watchers away. They're in danger of being hurt—or worse."

Davies wasted no time in raising his arm and shouting to his team. "Inside! Inside _now_! This is an emergency!" They all looked at him in surprise, and then a lithe, young looking girl with silky red hair down to her waist and dyed green at the ends and random spots gestured backwards. She spoke rapidly, Draco could tell, but what she said he couldn't hear. Her teammates gave grudging responses, but they slowly flew back towards the entrance at the bottom of the pitch leading to the locker rooms and inside. The spectators also filed out of the bleachers, mumbling dejectedly.

The girl, however, stayed behind. She touched down next to Davies and smiled brilliantly at all three of them, extending her hand. "Melissa. Melissa Mason. What's going on here, Malfoy?"

"The Death Eaters have broken through the wards," Draco repeated, glancing back anxiously. "Dumbledore's going after them but I'm sure there are a lot more."

Melissa pointed to Carleigh. "Don't you have a twin? Where's she?"

Carleigh stared at her, eyes blank. "She's dead. Someone got at her before I could." The full force of the situation suddenly hit them all, and Melissa's smile faltered.

"Death Eaters, you say?" she licked her lips. "Between all of us, even you, Rich, my parents are Death Eaters. Have you seen them, Draco? I don't think—Dad wouldn't do anything like that."

Draco had a sinking suspicion in his gut but he brushed it away quickly. "I wouldn't know. Now's not the time anyway—take her, I have to go get someone else."

"Carina?" Davies guessed. At Draco's sharp look, he shrugged. "She's always with them. Besides, we saw her running by near ten minutes ago. She yelled something to us but we were too high up to hear, and then she just disappeared."

"Which way?" Draco asked.

Davies pointed, and he barely got to wish Draco luck before the Slytherin had sprinted off.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was quite angered. From what he could see, absolutely no one was at the drop off site. Not one child, not _one_. Fuming, he turned to face his second-in-command, Antonin Dolohov. 

The man was _too_ scary, with black hair sticking up slightly in spikes and cold, ice blue eyes that put Lucius' to shame. Although never wanting for leadership, Dolohov was a true assassin; quiet, deadly, and loyal. He looked back at his Lord, face cold and Death Eater mask slipped to rest on top of his head.

"Where are the children?" Lucius snarled. "Did we not send out the letters?"

"My Lord," Dolohov replied, "It was not me who was to send them out. Your sister was in charge of that." Lucius looked out over the wide clearing he had chosen, easily accessible but carefully stowed away in the Forbidden Forest. Behind him milled a few chosen members, his close entourage.

"Zabini, Ernestine, Nott, Baddock," he snapped. "Is this true?"

The men all nodded carefully, all eyes shifting nervously under the mask. Karl Zabini raised his wand. Under the mask was a cruel face, ever sneering and reckless.

"My Lord, mayhaps these children are not as well trained as we thought them to be." Zabini backed away as Lucius spun to face him, glowering.

"My son is one of the children who are not _well-trained_ Zabini! Did you ever consider that? Draco _will_ come out this alive, else _you won't_!"

Complete silence reigned as Lucius breathed heavily, and silently dared anyone to oppose him. None did, and he soon calmed. Thinking quickly, he barked out orders.

"Zabini I want you to head off for Tynan. Find the little wretch and tell her to report here quickly—the attack is not to commence. We are retreating, right now, until we can some answers. Nott, Ernestine!"

Sylvan Nott and Matthew Ernestine stepped forward, bowing. "My lord?" they chorused. Lucius nodded shortly at them. "Go find Bellatrix. Go silently, and swiftly. Do not get caught by Dumbledore's forces. Baddock, Antonin, you two come with me."

His eyes glittered maliciously as he strode in the general direction of the school. "We have a few words to exchange with the Headmaster."

* * *

Harry stumbled through the underbrush, fingers curled tightly around his wand. Behind him he could hear Hermione's heavy breathing. She was trying, but their relentless search was pulling at her last resources. 

Green eyes scrutinized every inch of the ground and brush, making note of every out of place thing. Despite the fact that he was getting closer and closer to he chaotic sounds, Harry didn't allow himself time to panic; that could come later.

"Harry," Hermione said suddenly. She tugged on his sleeve, forcing him to slow down. When he gave her a questioning look, she merely motioned down to the ground. It took a moment for Harry to realize it, but then he saw them; small spatters of blood, in a trail, around smudged dirt. Someone injured had been dragged through the woods this way.

"Draco?" Hermione asked, voicing the question Harry dared not to. He looked up at her, momentarily at a loss. A loud bark of laughter cut off whatever he was about to say, though, and both turned without a word to plunge into a bush. Crawling on all fours, ignoring robes and clothes, they went forward, pushing branches from their faces. Some made their way past their hands, and small cuts were formed on their faces.

They hadn't gone on in this fashion for more than ten minutes before Harry drew to an abrupt halt. Hermione edged closer to him, and pushed aside some of the leaves. A soft gasp left her lips as she saw the hordes of Death Eaters gathered alongside each other.

"Hermione," Harry said softly. "How far are we from the school?"

The brown-haired girl was forced to think quickly. Given the direction in which they'd been traveling (at first straight through, but then with some turns) she could only guess the worst. "Just outside the east castle walls," she mumbled. "Where we saw one of the groups."

A loud jeering rose in the air, and the two could now make out a sort of crude circle. A small, pitiful form was tied to something—maybe it was a log? It whimpered loudly, and scattered laughter rang out. Harry felt the blood rising to his ears, and his grip around his wand tightened.

A lithe figure cloaked all in red suddenly pushed past the assemblage, forcing them back so that a large gap was left. Carina Zabini's shaking body was now clearly seen by the two Gryffindors, but they didn't feel truly afraid until the red-dressed woman pushed back her cowl, revealing a sharp, aristocratic face and a mass of tangled blond hair.

"Think you're funny, do you?" Tynan said to the Slytherin. "Running into my group and attacking me?" It was only then that Harry noticed the slight swelling under her right eye. She was already holding her wand to it, and the black and blue was disappearing quickly.

Carina raised her head, narrowed her eyes, and spit at Tynan's feet. "I hope you die for what you're doing!" she muttered sourly. "_That_ would be funny."

Tynan slapped her, and raised her wand. Suddenly, she stilled. One perfect, golden eyebrow arched upwards. She motioned to one of the Death Eaters, a man, and whispered something to him. He nodded and moved back, vanishing into the crowd. Tynan raised her wand again, smiling even more cruelly.

"Harry," Hermione said, biting her lip. "Harry…"

"There's a lot," he said. "I know. But we've got to try, right?" Indecision washed over him, as well as guilt. He prepared to stand, but then something suddenly was knocked against his head. The last thing he saw was Hermione's frightened face before he fell unconscious, blissfully unaware of the things happening about him.

* * *

Draco stopped short, and gripped at his chest. It was only a brief flash of pain, but it had turned into a dull aching, now. Wincing slightly, the blonde took another step forward, only to retreat when he heard a mighty roar be set up. Treading carefully, he peered around a tree, and his eyes widened owlishly. 

He could see his professors surrounding the school, eyes grim with determination as masses of black-robed people ran towards them. From the corner of his eyes he could see some of them being felled by random flashes of light; he looked up, and saw some of his classmates leaning out of windows and firing off spells, then ducking back inside.

"…Second salvo!"

Draco blinked. That had sounded suspiciously like Longbottom…but he didn't dwell on it, as another brief sting hit him, this time staying for a moment longer before fading slowly away.

The Slytherin ran his fingers through his already thoroughly mussed hair, eyeing his hands immediately afterward in disgust. "Ugh. Potter's giving me his habits now, too…" The rest of the sentence trailed off, as he glanced over.

It couldn't be.

A low growl left his throat as he spread his wings again, flapping them mightily for extra speed as he struck off for the other side of the castle.

"Stupid, stupid Potter," he ranted. "You had better not be in any trouble." He was cool and calm, angered but that was to be expected. Even now, as Draco all but flew past scores of Death Eaters, seeing them through the leafy fringe, he was expressionless.

But inside, he was nearly dying of fright.

* * *

Harry awoke slowly, with a pounding head and a sick feeling in his stomach. Next to him he could hear Hermione speaking in a low voice to someone, probably Carina, and before him was a flurry of red fabric. 

"You're awake," Tynan said, smiling widely. Harry made as if to lunge for her, but was sorely disappointed to find himself tied to the same pole Carina had been. A hand found its way to his pant leg, and he looked down to see Hermione with an arm wrapped about the younger girl, looking frightened, but both untied.

"Run," Harry whispered, but apparently not softly enough. Tynan laughed loudly, pushing back her locks as she threw her head back.

"Run? You want them to run?" She shook her head as she giggled again. "Listen, the girl is a kind, kind and chivalrous Gryffindor. She wouldn't leave you, and the young one is injured." Tynan pointed to Carina's leg, which had been loosely wrapped with scraps ripped from Hermione's robe.

"Mr. Potter, I believe I gave you an offer the last time I saw you. I'm making it again. Join me? I do believe in second chances," she added, as though it were a privilege. With head still swimming and his sight slowly becoming fuzzier, Harry raised his head in a defiant manner.

"No."

Stillness was not long in being broken. Tynan straightened, and stepped back so that the other Death Eaters were visible. She turned to face them, eyes flaring. "Listen to me, all those who are here! The Slytherin girl here is proof enough of what is happening inside of this school! They have tainted our children, and St. Potter here has helped! With his death, we begin the new age!"

A loud cheer went up, and as Tynan smiled inwardly, the dark haired Death Eater pushing through the crowd distracted her. She narrowed her eyes and waved for silence, waiting until the man had presented himself.

"Take off your mask," she ordered, eyes gleaming as she recognized him. "Look at these prisoners before you deliver your message, and then tell me what you have to say."

Zabini hesitated for a moment, but then he removed the disguise and looked behind her. Tynan watched in childish glee as his face contorted with rage upon seeing his daughter, who was peering up at him with more fear than relief.

"Dad," Carina began shakily, "Dad, I didn't mean to ruin anything, I'm sorry—"

"Silence!" Zabini roared at her. "Where is your brother, wench?"

Hermione squeezed Carina's shoulder, but the black-haired girl took no reassurance as she shrank back a little. "Dad, he's still inside. We didn't—Dad, we didn't know!"

Her father pointed his wand at her, fuming. "Shut up. You are no daughter of mine, and neither is your brother. I have no need of you—your siblings were raised better, but surely, something went wrong with you!" He turned to Tynan, and bowed. "My lady, please, I offer you my apologies. Do with her as you see fit."

The Death Eaters took up their cheering again as Zabini stepped back into the crowd. Tynan smiled maliciously and poked Harry's chest with a finger.

"You," she purred, "Will be first, m'dear. I so _want_ to hear you scream." She waved her finger in an airy little motion, before tapping directly on his scar and murmuring "_Crucio._"

The screams that rent the air were terrifying.

* * *

Blah de da. Got my first flame...actually, I agreed with it. This fic is sort of incoherent, isn't it? GUESS WHAT? When I say my first flame, I mean ever. EVER. Dude. But does it count as a flame if I agree with the person?

Bonzai and fluffles to: **MagicChic82, Master Elora Dannan** (Yeah, but I need the cast later for something...you shall see...) **Yana5, DestinyEntwinements, berserkgoddess** (Are you joking? I can't stand that movie...urgh, but Denzel got me out, so I must praise him.) **Hoshiko Malfoy, Dreaming Sensations, Jyaoris** (It keeps me from doing my homework too. I don't complain. I CRY OUT FOR JOY.) **Pasht** (Hess yes, it was supposed to be confuzzling. No worries, it shall all be made clear soon...) **Shortshape **(Danke muchos.) **sbkar** (Dunno. Mebbeh Tynan, mebbeh Lucius...mebbe Harry? (Cackles gleefully)), **lemonkissesxoxo** (It measn Luna doesn't get her pancakes! (Silence) Damn. I thought it waas funny.) **ChildofLight 051, lady lorethei** (Thanks so much for reviewing every chapter! I nearly had a heart attack when I found them all. Plus, give yourself a bajillion pats on the back, you motivated my lazy arse to update.), **Loup Garu-chan** ( I feel hurt...Tynan is based off of me...JK! Thanks, I was hoping that's the way everyone else sees her as too.) 


	15. We'll Be Waiting In The Dark Alleys

Disclaimer: Dude. Soooo not mine. And part of Bast's bio isn't mine either--belongs to SlashCity.

* * *

_I found a letter that said:  
"I'm sorry that you were asleep when I wrote these words down,"  
You'd think I'd ought to be used to that by now.  
Save for a few of those late night episodes,  
Missed opportunities, and "I Don't Cares,"  
There's not a lot that I feel obliged to share or talk about.  
I'll have my brother stop by this Saturday to pick up my things,  
Just make sure you're not there.  
This may sound bad, and don't take it the wrong way.  
I love you, however, you hold me down (x5)  
You're the echoes of my everything,  
You're the emptiness the whole world sings at night.  
You're the laziness of afternoon,  
You're the reason why I burst and why I bloomed.  
How will I break the news to you? (x3)  
Cancel our dinner with Max and Coraline,  
Feed Jacky's gerbil and try to stay clean.  
We'll talk it over after I've had some time alone to sort it out.  
You hold me down, you hold me down. You hold me down, you hold me down.  
You're the echoes of my everything,  
You're the emptiness the whole world sings at night.  
You're the laziness of afternoon,  
You're the reason why I burst and why I bloomed.  
You're the leaky sink of sentiment,  
You're the failed attempts I never could forget.  
You're the metaphors I can't create to comprehend this curse that I call love.  
How will I break the news to you? (x4) _

-Hold Me Down- Motion City Soundtrack (Dude. Best. Song. Ever.)

* * *

**We'll Be Waiting In The Dark Alleys**

**issalee

* * *

**

Harry hated being rescued.

He was breathing raggedly, sobbing and screaming at the same time from the force of the spell. What was going on? His insides were turning over and over and over again. Someone else was screaming; next to him? There was mass laughter too.

_This isn't fair…_

_**Three, Harry, is my favorite number.**_

The usually vivid green eyes were foggy with confusion and pain. Harry could feel the magic on his leg fading away quickly, leaving his cast exposed. With bleary, pain-filled eyes, he looked down and saw the pure white. It was becoming flecked with spots of red. Who was bleeding? Something warm slid down his lips.

_Oh. Me._

He struggled vaguely, finding he was trying more to wipe the blood away than to stop the spell that was currently tearing at his very soul. He thought about the number three. A short giggle penetrated his thoughts, and the pain stopped.

"Let's let him down, shall we? I want to see him _writhe_ in agony!" Tynan nearly cried at the sight before her when a Death Eater behind her complied with her wishes. Harry fell forward, not even bracing himself as he rolled a little away, glasses landing several feet away from him. Hermione immediately attempted to crawl closer to him, but Tynan made a discreet movement, and a few black-robed men soon held the bushy-haired Gryffindor back. She let out a wail as Tynan raised her hand again, and several things happened at once.

Through the open trees burst a furious looking Dumbledore, followed by Orion the centaur. Hermione took the chance caused by the ripple of shock that followed and bit one of her captor's hands. He howled in pain, and then suddenly, everyone was moving. Dumbledore shouted off what seemed like a score of spells, Orion began to shoot off arrow after arrow, and Tynan cursed loudly as she began screaming orders to her followers.

Hermione pushed away and ran, pausing only to grab Carina's hand before she fell to her knees at Harry's side. The boy was unconscious, it seemed, and tears welled up in her eyes as she smoothed his forehead.

"Oh, Harry…"

"Hermione," Carina said, looking miserably woeful. "We aren't going to last long, are we? Even if Dumbledore's here, I can't—my dad will find us."

"We can't run!" Hermione said, near hysterical. "Where—," she looked around, searching for someone. All she could see was a sea of black robes, leering faces, some frightened, and one single red flurry of robes and light in the middle of it all.

"We're going to _have_ to run, Hermione!" Carina shouted. "There's no other way! We'll drag Harry along, but if anything, we're going to have to leave him!" The Gryffindor's eyes grew wide. Leave Harry?

Hermione gnawed on her lower lip as she crouched lower to the ground, attempting to remain unseen amongst the chaos. She had never before, never in the midst of any battle, whether personal or something like the War, _ever_ considered leaving Harry behind. He hadn't, so why should she? Sure, Ron had doubted Harry a few times, but Hermione was just a natural empath. She _knew_ Harry, inside and out.

She glanced down at the boy who had captured her heart years ago. She loved him, even more than as a brother, maybe, but that was how far there relationship would ever go. She was content with Ron. She wouldn't ever want Harry to be more to her than a close friend, and especially with the newly added Draco…

"Draco." Hermione said, looking up. She stood, ignoring Carina's cry, and flung Harry's limp arm over her shoulder. "I need a wand; the Death Eater's took mine."

The Slytherin girl hung back for a moment. Hermione understood; Carina was not being selfish. She had been taught to care only for herself, but she couldn't do that. She leaned towards logic, and logic said they ditched Harry and ran.

"Please," Hermione implored. Carina hesitated only a moment more before she leaned over and unhooked Harry's wand from his belt.

"They left it there," she explained. She took Harry's other arm and pulled it around her shoulders. "Let's go," she finished, handing Hermione the wand. The older girl smiled, before she set off at a steady run, pulling away from the battle. Carina followed, breathing heavily and trying not to lean too much on her injured leg as they set off.

Neither noticed the two pairs of eyes watching them; one, a usually twinkling blue pair followed quickly by a sigh of relief, and another, colder blue, followed by a howl of rage and shouted hexes.

* * *

Rabastan Lestrange was not that crazy. He just had a very…interesting life story, was all. As he sat in a dark, dank cell in the most secret of dungeons in Hogwarts, braiding the straw next to him, he mused on how utterly spontaneous his life was, and rather dark too.

Youngest of his family, he was easily led by his brother, following what Rodolphus and the other older wizards and witches said was right. By himself, chances are that Bast wouldn't have gotten into any truly bad trouble. He tagged along after his brother and later his brother's wife, staying in the shadows where it was generally safer all around. It was the high profile Death Eaters that tended to get arrested, killed, or punished by the Dark Lord. He was and is a Slytherin after all.

Intelligent in his own way, Bast excelled in psychology and the general medicine field. At one time, he might have made one hell of a good doctor. Now, he's more like a Hannibal Lector. Somewhere along the way, he jettisoned his morals. He has no problems torturing a person, evidenced by his participation in the Longbottom affair. During that, he merely stood back, observing with great interest how the victim's mental states declined with each application of the curse. The human mind fascinates him, especially how to break it apart.

Bast Lestrange was sentenced to Azkaban for the torture of the Longbottoms along with his brother, sister-in-law, and the rest of the Death Eaters in that infamous band. Given a life sentence, he served only 15 years of it, escaping with the rest during the massive Death Eater breakout shortly before Voldemort's fall. Bellatrix might be quite clearly insane, but Bast hides his own well. There's a lot of it to hide. Damn shame in his opinion that Harry Potter was dibbed by the Dark Lord.

He has a memory that is near perfect concerning things read from books or seen in pictures. It's a long running amusement in his family when he uses that ability along with that of excellent mimicry to poke fun at one person or another.

Although it's rare, he can be angered just like anyone else. That's the time when he most resembles the rest of his family. He's as insane as the rest of them, but it's a lucid brand of insanity. One that keeps him operational instead of merely flailing. Cruelty takes a front seat and his wide knowledge psychology and the knots it can tie a person up in come to the forefront. After spending most of his adult life in Azkaban, he's comfortable with being alone although enclosed spaces bother him greatly. It's not unusual for whatever room he is in to have all the windows and doors thrown open to attempt to relieve that claustrophobia.

Bast is also has an eidetic mind or commonly called an 'Eidetiker'. Eidetic is the ability to recall image into the mind at will. Beyond the ability to simply remember details, an Eidetiker actually holds a pictorial image in memory; he or she can 'project' remembered image onto surfaces, or combine remembered image to make a combined image. As a concept, it's the stuff of daydreams. But what happens when the image and emotions associated with them are unwanted? Is the Eidetiker cursed with exact recall in this case? A lot of Rabastan's insanity comes back to this ability.

Butterflies and squirrels are the bane of his life. They seem like odd things for one who is a Death Eater to be frightened of, but he has his reasons. Butterflies are horribly random creatures to him, and anything that is more random that he is merits destruction. It doesn't help that someone once told him about the Butterfly Effect of "a butterfly flaps its wings in Japan, and tornados strike Texas". That scared the hell out of Rabastan. Since that moment, butterflies have become the enemy. Squirrels are simply furry rats in his opinion. While he has nothing against rats, the whole sneakiness of squirrels bothers Rabastan. As with the butterflies, anything that mimics him (he pretends to be cute, fluffy, and utterly nuts to hide a sharp mind - squirrels put on fluffy coats and act cute to get nuts) needs to be done away with. Seeing any of these two creatures or even the mention of them will send Rabastan scurrying up the nearest person to hide with repeated cries of "Kill it... NOW!" Good thing he's only 5'2.

He's also rather jealous of Bellatrix. She's not good enough for his brother in his opinion. Chances are that if he doesn't have someone else to annoy when boredom strikes, she's going to be the target of his mischief. This generally consists of him mimicking Sirius Black's voice or something of the same juvenile manner. Rodolphus Lestrange is everything in his life. Brother, parent, god, idol, and confidant. He became a Death Eater to follow his brother, even went to Azkaban for fifteen years for him. There is nothing he wouldn't do for Rodolphus. Quickest way to get on his bad side is to say something bad about his elder sibling.

Nine out of ten, Bast will come off acting like an idiot, especially if he's unsure of the person he's speaking to. Childish requests aren't above him. In his mind, it helps lull anyone he's facing into a false sense of security and of being smarter/greater/better than Rabastan is. The insanity defense works well for him. Most normal people don't go about shrieking in fear of butterflies and squirrels as well as demanding chocolate.

Rabastan's hair is white ... You spend long years in Azkaban sometime and see what color your hair comes out. It was blonde before in all fairness.

So, you see, Bast can't be called crazy.

Tortured, maybe, but definitely not crazy.

* * *

Ron was unbelievably frightened. Seamus and Dean were crouching next to him, both shaking as they tried to drown out the noises outside with soft singing._Casey wants to twirl that silver girl…twirl, twirly, twirl…_

Seamus looked up, blinking. "What comes after that?" Dean looked at him, shook his head, and then slipped under the window again. He peered up, and then immediately sat back.

"It's crazy. I can't even see the teachers anymore, just dust and clouds and lots of screaming. I think—I think I saw someone jumping out of the window."

"The Imperius Curse, d'you think?" Ron said glumly. He attempted to make his voice light, but it ended on a high note. Sighing, the redhead buried his head in his arms. "We're locked inside Hagrid's hut, but Harry and Hermione are in the forest. They can't have survived!"

"They'll be fine." Seamus said, although the cracking of his voice didn't reassure anyone. He suddenly stood, and stomped across to the other side of the cabin. "We're going to down these Death Eaters!" he said.

"Mate, you've gone mad," Dean mumbled.

Seamus grabbed several of the horns that were hanging on hooks on the wall, and wrapped them around his neck. "To the back!" he shouted, and ran towards the general direction of the back door.

"You don't think he'd actually—," Ron started, and Dean shook his head.

"He wouldn't."

"He couldn't." Ron agreed. Then, they both turned to look at each other.

"He's Seamus."

They both got up at the exact same time and took off to where the Irish boy had disappeared. Thankfully, when they stumbled into Hagrid's small (in his case, giant in theirs) they found Seamus kneeling by a window, peering out of the dusty pane with intense concentration. He had pulled it open just the slightest bit, and was holding a horn to his lips.

"What are you going to do?" Dean asked him, relieved that the other boy was all right. "Are you mad? You've lifted up the window! Do you even know what that horn does? Seamus, what would your mother think if she saw you doing this?"

"I dunno. Definitely. Um, yes, I have. No. And, I suppose she would tell me to hit them straight between the eyes!" The Irishman answered. "But Hagrid gave us a lesson on this once, before. They're all mating or battle horns, right? So we just call all of the Forest's creatures that were either hiding or don't know about this yet."

"What doesn't know about this yet?" Ron muttered. "I bet you my mum's heard already and she's freaking out." He made as if to move and grab the horn, but Seamus put it to his lips.

The horn seemed to be covered in shaggy fur, and winding around it was what looked suspiciously like a spider web, but on closer inspection turned out to be string. Seamus blew, and then fell back at the high-pitched screeching noise that came from it, like someone wailing at the most awful of destructions. He attempted to pry it from his lips, but it kept up, falling in and out of crescendo until finally, finally stopping.

Outside, an eerie silence had fallen.

"That was a banshee call," Dean whispered, looking ashen. "And mating or battle, I don't want to find out. I want to live!"

"But we can't leave!" Ron protested, although he was already pressed against the door. "What's it look like outside, Seamus?"

The Irish boy, despite his fear of banshees, had managed to pull himself together. Carefully, he approached the window, and drew back a corner of the curtain that had fallen upon it.

"_Oh Circe!"_

He screamed as he stumbled back, gripping his wand in tight fingers and finally falling because of the horns around his neck. Peering back at him through the window was a gray, slick face, drawn and pale. Wide, haunted eyes were looking mournfully around the room, as though searching for something. Slicks of black hair fell across the face, hiding part of the left eye.

Ron nearly started laughing at the shocked look on the banshee's face when she realized that none of her kind was in the room. Her eyes grew wider, if possible, and she opened and closed her small, delicate mouth like a fish. But then, the redhead noticed one disturbing thing that caused all ideas of laughter to die immediately.

Instead of pupils, the banshee's eyes were completely and totally white. No irises or anything, just white white eyeball. But as her lips turned into a scowl, her eyes darkened, and became a dark, angry black.

"RUN!" Dean shrieked, already grabbing Seamus about the collar. The banshee let out a loud shriek of her own, but it soon turned into her customary wailing noise. Ron covered his ears and barreled out of the room, down the hall, and out of the back door. He hit the dirt and rolled over, standing up almost immediately.

The banshee was already gliding towards them, and he caught a glimpse of the hear-deserted courtyard, which had only a few bodies lying on the ground, before he decided now would be a good time to start running.

"Help!" He shouted, attempting to get away. "Help me, somebody!" Dean and Seamus he couldn't see, and as he turned around to try and find them, he tripped over something. Ron twisted his head, and all color left his face.

The sightless eyes of Padma Patil stared back at him.

Ron was used to seeing bodies of loved ones staring at him in such a fashion. He had been in the war, after all, and was lucky his immediate family had come to no harm. Except for Percy, who had simply disappeared, they all escaped relatively unscathed.

But the sight of someone he had known so well so soon after recovering from the War was too much, and he turned the other way, heaving out his breakfast. He remembered the pancakes he had previously eaten, and moaned as he sat up.

The grounds were deserted. The banshee was nowhere in sight. Had she gone after Seamus and Dean? There was no way to tell, only an eerie silence. Ron punched the ground, suddenly angry with himself. What if he had lost two other people because of his cowardice?

_Harry would have never run…_

"Oi, Ron!"

He turned, and found said two boys to be running toward him. Seamus was still looking considerably insipid, but Dean seemed slightly better.

"What happened to the banshee?" He asked, relieved.

"I think she scared everyone away. She was following us, and then she just disappeared."

"But she came after me first!" Ron said, confused.

"That, Mr. Weasley, is a very clever deduction. Unfortunately, it's not correct." All three boys turned to find a very proud looking Prof. Flitwick march out of the surrounding bushes, smiling widely.

"I'm glad to see that charm worked!" he squeaked. "I was flung quite a bit far back in one attack, you know. When I heard young Seamus' banshee battle call, I decided that a little Replicating Charm was in order. Several banshees swooped down, and they scattered like a dozen flies. The charms won't wear off for a while; I had to call off the two I accidentally set on you."

"Er…thanks, Professor." Ron said, as he got up. "Where are all the other teachers?"

"Heh… 'Spect they'd moved on too," Flitwick said sheepishly. "Mayhaps the spell was a bit _too_ convincing. Come now, though, boys. What were you doing in Hagrid's hut anyhow? Let's go into the school now…"

Seamus finally opened his mouth, as though he was going to say something, but Ron elbowed him in the gut. The redhead smiled at Flitwick, who narrowed his eyes slightly but said nothing as he walked on. Ron, Seamus and Dean lagged behind a moment, and Ron looked down at them (not hard to do, with his height) looking serious as he ever could.

"Not a word about Harry or Hermione, hear?" he hissed. "They may need help, but if we tell anyone…well, can you imagine all the teachers running into the forest and screaming about how Harry's gone? It won't end up well for any of us." He stalked away after Flitwick, seemingly calm.

Dean stared for a moment before shaking his head. "Since when did he get so smart?"

Seamus rubbed at his pale cheeks. "I don't think our teachers would scream, do you?"

* * *

Somewhere in Draco's mind, he realized what he was doing was utterly wrong. He shouldn't have leapt into that fray when he heard those screams; he shouldn't have frozen when he looked around and saw those Death Eaters (people he had _known_, he had to remind himself) flinging curse after curse after curse to his Headmaster, and some teachers that looked lost. As though they'd been wandering aimlessly in the forest and couldn't get out. No one noticed him, even with his wings spread behind him like a beacon in the dark. Dark? Was it really so late?

He shouldn't have looked down and seen the pool of blood _(Harry's?)_ and swallowed because his throat was suddenly unbearably dry. He shouldn't have looked up, and locked eyes with his aunt, whose eyes had lightened a shade. She smiled at him.

He shouldn't have even been out here, just like he shouldn't have been there the day the attack happened in Diagon Alley.

He shouldn't have taken off when Tynan smiled; he shouldn't have felt frightened, angry, but more shocked by it all. And he certainly shouldn't have stumbled as he ran; Malfoys were _graceful_, not clumsy.

And now as he laid breathing heavily, with discord ringing in his ears and such an absolute _need_ to be near his mate that it nearly killed him, he almost just gave up. How hard would it be to just lie there and never get up again?

He rolled over on his side.

_Leave my friends? Or, the few I have…leave Harry?_

He remembered his last attempt to be chivalrous, and shivered, but he couldn't dredge up enough determination to push himself up. Someone screamed in the distance, and it was silenced quickly. He sat up automatically, gripping his wand. It could have been anyone, couldn't it? But his heart was still pounding, and his head was still swimming, and he was still nauseous and worried.

"…lay him down…"

Draco stood swiftly with the feline grace that he had been born to use. A new anger rose in him, fresh and swift in the coming. They had _killed_ someone. They could have killed even more. And he was sitting here, when he could do much, much more, sulking? With a lethal look in his eyes, he carefully skirted the trees and bushes, and peered around.

Someone in black robes was leaning over a crumpled body. Another person was standing just out of his line of sight, and as he strained to get closer, the kneeling person shifted. A tousled head of black hair became visible, followed shortly by the rest of a pale, drawn face.

Draco suddenly felt as sick as he could get.

* * *

Hermione was feeling nauseous herself as she leaned over Harry, prodding at his ribs and the like. She sat back on her haunches; ready to tell Carina they could start moving again without the risk of any bones digging into Harry's organs when she heard Carina gasp. Something pressed up against her neck, and she froze.

"Move back from him," a cold voice told her.

Hermione recognized it immediately. "Draco, listen, we need your help!" She felt the object against her neck waver, and then fall back. Draco was suddenly kneeling next to her, one his wings wrapping almost unconsciously around her form.

"What happened?" he asked, in a strange, garbled voice as he looked down at Harry. "Is he okay? Why are you here?" But Hermione didn't get a chance to answer, because at that moment, Carina stumbled across to them, and fell to her knees next to Draco. She was suddenly crying, and he automatically reached a hand out to touch her shoulder, without saying a word.

"That lady—Tynan, wasn't it? She used the Cruciatus Curse on him, and it was really powerful. I don't know what happened—he won't wake up, and we already tried using Ennervate on him." Hermione stumbled over her words, tongue oddly swollen. "Carina's leg has a deep wound in it." She stopped, suddenly. She had already forgotten why she had come into this forest in the first place.

Draco didn't notice. He withdrew his hand and placed it on Harry's chest, waiting for the feel of the rise and fall to show he was still breathing. When it came, it was barely detectable and labored.

"He needs help," The Slytherin boy said. Without warning, he slipped his arms under Harry's body and picked the other boy up, then stood. The two girls followed as quickly as they could. "We have to get to the school, as soon as possible."

"Wait!" Carina sniffed, looking as though she was about to burst into tears again. "What about Carleigh and Chloris?" Draco felt an unfamiliar lump rise in his throat, forbidding him to speak and leaving him with a dry mouth. Fortunately Hermione saw this, and she answered quickly.

"They're probably back at the school already," the Gryffindor responded brightly. "Now, come on, let's go. While everyone is distracted." She added silently, _Distracted by the blood_, and let the younger girl lean on her as they tried to make headway in the wild of the forest.

No need for all things to be voiced aloud.

* * *

Soooooooo...how are you all? 

I swear to God I have a better explanation for how late this is somewhere, but unfortunately, it's nowhere close to here. Besides the fact that I am tired beyond tired and trying my best to sleep every moment I get, it's not helping. This is being posted on one of my brief half hour breaks. 

Unfortunately, no review replies, as I am having enough trouble trying to see straight as it is. Smile, though, and review for this chapter! Swear to the Gods I'll answer next time... 


	16. To Screw Aristocracy

Disclaimer: Whoosh. Whoosh. WOOSH. WOOOOOSH. Sorry. Was throwing stupid labels over my shoulder. Muah hahaha…not mine.

* * *

**To Screw Aristocracy **

**issalee

* * *

**

_Hermione looked at her in surprise, while Ginny, her knees suddenly weak, sat down quickly on the stairs. "Don't tell me you've read Hogwarts: A History."  
"Of course," Blaise said mildly. "Who hasn't?"_

_Draco Veritas, Chapter 16- Cassandra Claire

* * *

_

Inside of Harry's mind, he was safe. How many times had he hidden there, in the deepest recesses of his conscience, even when Voldemort had attacked him? Here in his mind, _he_ was all-powerful, and only _he_ was allowed inside.

But that was not to be, right now.

He was staring at into the eyes of a very much white-haired man who was grinning inanely back at him, and he suddenly felt the urge to cringe. The man, Harry recognized as Rabastan Lestrange.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," he murmured. "It seems you've been _touched_. Shall we speak later? This won't last long."

Harry blinked. The man seemed so babyish, and even now, Rabastan began to laugh. "Just joking, Harry."

The Gryffindor turned red with rage. "How _dare_ you!" he said through gritted teeth. "You've helped to ruin my life, and you're acting like you're my _friend_?"

Rabastan leaned back, and Harry noticed for the first time they were inside of a small cell. Lying all around him on the ground were dolls, braided from straw.

"I would hardly say I've ruined your life. I think I helped it, actually. Won't you be surprised to learn a few things…at least someone will be." Rabastan smirked, but in a dopey-ish way. "You've got some nerve, by the way, intruding on my privacy."

"I don't even know how I _got_ here," Harry groused.

"Simple! You've been branded by a very powerful magical source, Harry. Of course, it will take a moment to—sink in. Tynan likes it to wait."

"Tynan? That evil, conniving little—"

"Isn't that the most overused description I've ever heard." Rabastan picked up a handful of straw and began to twine it around and around. "Besides, you aren't the only one. Bellatrix was quite upset to find herself here, and I daresay she screamed."

He smiled, almost fondly.

"I enjoyed watching her mind unravel."

Harry did cringe this time, scooting backwards. "Am I—going to go crazy in here?"

"End up like me, you mean?" Bast shrugged. "It depends. My dear sister-in-law couldn't take it, and went mad shortly afterward. She was the first to be touched. She doesn't remember it, of course, but when Tynan returned and found her here, she recalled all of it soon enough."

"And you?" Harry couldn't help asking.

Rabastan pushed off from the wall suddenly, and Harry found himself looking into eyes of the strangest brown. "I've always been insane, myself. Tynan just—helped me along." With that, he pressed the now finished straw doll into Harry's hands.

Harry dropped like a stone as his whole body began to burn, and his vision began to swim. The expression on Rabastan's face suddenly became much more sinister. "You see, Harry, she has done quite a bit of life-ruining for me. I enjoy thinking that you will be the death of her, and I—"

He twisted Harry's wrist sharply, sending the boy into another searing spasm, and looked away almost regretfully.

"—And I shall be the death of you, Harry Potter."

* * *

Draco looked down as the boy in his arms stirred, stopping. Hermione and Carina ceased walking also, and looked questioningly at him, but he was only looking at Harry.

The Gryffindor shot up, eyes wide as he let out a cry.

"_No!"_

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry more tightly, letting his mate's legs down as he did so. "Harry—Harry, it's ok! Harry!"

The green-eyed boy struggled for a moment, before blinking back the tears that were rapidly welling in his eyes from the immense backlash of pain he'd gotten from the force of the Cruciatus as well as—

Rabastan.

Harry's eyes widened, and he looked down at his wrists. They were the normal tanned, skinny wrists he was used to, but in his right hand, he was holding what seemed to be a charred doll.

"What _is_ that?" Carina couldn't stop herself from saying. "Harry, drop it! It might have a curse on it."

"No," Harry whispered, but he let go of it anyway. "It doesn't."

The doll hit the ground with a surprisingly audible and soft _thud_, stirring up a few restless leaves as it did so. There was complete silence around them, and a slight wind started up, calming and as cool as one someone would feel on a normal day. Harry crumpled suddenly, with Draco catching him from behind at the last instant.

"You're weak," The Slytherin said angrily. "I shouldn't have let you go. Come on, we have to get back to the school."

"In the dungeons," Harry shook his head. "We have to get down there, and talk to Rabastan Lestrange. He—he knows something that I—that we don't, about your aunt."

"Not until you're properly healed," Hermione protested. "Harry, you've still got the cast on your leg!" She was stopped as Harry warily eyed the dirty cast, and it melted off, leaving his jeans to roll down and cover the rest of his leg. Immediately after he felt weakened, and sagged gratefully into Draco's arms.

"I'm fine, Hermione," he said. "But we _have_ to get down there."

"Potter," Draco said softly from behind him. "We don't have to know everything about Tynan. She is a madwoman, and I would expect that information to be more than enough for some. She almost _killed_ you, Potter! What the hell were you thinking?"

There was a pause as the Gryffindor thought, and then he pushed away from Draco, stumbling for the first few steps, but then righting himself quickly with the aid of a tree nearby. He turned briefly, eyes looking haunted and gloomy.

"I was _thinking_," he muttered, "That maybe I could get some answers."

Carina suddenly broke away from the two on either side of her, and flung her arms around Harry, forcing him to fall down. In the few scant moments that she had as she was lying on top of him, she leaned in closer and whispered in his ear.

"Your parents aren't coming back, Harry. It's obvious you want them to, as do many others, but she _isn't_ bringing them back."

Harry turned his head slightly to look at her, eyes wide as she leaned back on her haunches and he sat up. "How—"

"She is, like Draco said, a madwoman. Mad people are all the same, Harry. They promise you things you can't have—and that they can't give to you. I would think that you of all people would know that."

"I'm still young," Harry tried feebly.

"As am I."

They looked at each other for a moment, each in their own thoughts; Harry in his parent's arms, and Carina, imagining what it must have been like for not him—but Ginny. Then Hermione and Draco were standing next to them, the latter looking bristled. Carina held her hands up, smiling sheepishly.

"Peace, I was just stopping him from leaving."

He growled at her as he helped Harry up, but said nothing. Hermione brushed strands of hair from her eyes. "What now? You're awake, Harry, but we're still lost in woods with no one to help us and no idea which direction the school is in—"

"But we do have a wand, Hermione, and as Ron so lightly put it in our second year, are you a woman or a witch?"

Hermione looked at Harry askance for a moment, before looking down at the lithe wand she held in her hand. Already she could see the strands of yellow crackling at the end of it; her wand was ahead of her.

"_Point me_," she whispered, letting it fall. The wand spun in a complete circle, whirring around and around for longer than usual before finally twanging to a stop, point to the right of them. "That's North," Hermione said. "And the way we go."

"And when we reach the school?" Carina asked.

They turned to Harry, who was looking far-off. Draco squeezed his hand, and Harry looked down in minute shock; he hadn't realized the blonde was still holding it. A sudden weariness overtook him as he gazed at the faces of his friends and mate, all of them looking anxious to get back, but willing to go with him if he should plunge into danger once more. Harry sighed.

"I need to eat. I haven't had anything since those pancakes this morning, and I'm famished—" Carina cut him off with a small 'yes', and he mock-glared at her.

"Carina, however, will be required to stay behind in the forest and take any curses or hexes aimed at me, for me." He waited a moment before laughing.

Draco, from behind him, smiled slyly.

There was always a funny point, even when in chaos.

* * *

Near twenty minutes later, Harry was beginning to get a headache. He was panting already and they'd only been walking nonstop, no running or death-defying stunts at all. His vision was all tunnels, and he was sure Draco was beginning to notice.

"Feeling all right?" The blonde muttered. "If you faint, Potter…"

"Shut it, Malfoy," Harry gasped. "I'm really not up to this right now. And I don't _faint_," he added bitterly. "I pass out with extremely dramatic movements."

Draco cast him a sidelong glance, than smirked appreciatively. "It seems, Potter," he said while dodging a branch. "That the majority of your time must be spent with me, seeing as you're starting to sound like me."

"Stop bickering," Carina interrupted them. "We could die, and you two want to go down with your wands pointed at each other's throats."

"I'd hardly consider doing that if every time I tried, I nearly died."

"Malfoy, I _loathe_ you."

"That could have hurt, Potter," Draco said, bumping at his chest theatrically. "I suppose we won't be hearing any more asinine assumptions that I'm a good person, eh?"

"Oh, _honestly_," Hermione said irritably. "I take three seconds to have some sort of silent agreement with Ron to stop arguing when we're in life-threatening danger, but you two just _must_ take a whole century! With a hundred Dark wizards at your back!"

"You forgot the bloodthirsty feminist tyrant," Draco added helpfully.

"And the manipulative rat-faced bastard that's her brother," Harry muttered, and drew in a sharp breath.

"Are you losing your touch, Potter?" Draco arched an eyebrow. "We haven't even gotten to our mettle yet and you're out of breath."

"You," Harry said, pointing one accusing finger at Draco, "Are conceited."

"And you are naïve. Now that we've sorted that out, let's jump into the fray once more and keep on with these not-so-accidental suicide attempts!" Draco said cheerfully. The others stared, and his eyes narrowed. "As you must notice, my outlook gets rather cynical once we've neared the end of our lives."

"When you were younger, Malfoy," Hermione asked curiously. "Did your parents ever consider selling you to a Muggle circus? You would have done quite well as a ringleader, I'm sure, or a comedian."

"Or a Vaudeville dancer."

"Harry!" Hermione snapped at him. "Now is not the time!"

Harry looked at her in surprise. "Oh, but it's the perfect time to ask Draco whether or not he was ever put up for auction?"

"Perfectly alright, Potter," Draco breezed into the conversation. "People enjoy bidding on me, I only do it for their pleasure. Oh, and you called me by my first name. Are you slipping?"

Harry snorted.

"Oh, come on, Harry, don't tell me you've fallen for this insufferable git's ploys?" Ginny said.

"I'd like to think they were more like _charms_," Draco mused.

Everyone present rolled their eyes, and he looked hurt. "I thought you all liked me," he said piteously. "I thought Gryffindors were all about being kind."

"Just," Harry said kindly, "Not to you."

"Oh, really funny, Potter."

"Thank you, I try."

"Shut up!" Carina groused. Draco and Harry hid grins behind their hands as they continued to trudge onwards.

Carina noticed.

* * *

Tynan was smirking and shrieking with almost childish glee as she rent open the stomach of a kicking spider. Was that an acromantula? She tapped her fingers on it thoughtfully, and it melted away. Later, she'd go back and find it; what clothes could be made up of their hides, she wondered. She looked up as a voice pierced the battlegrounds.

"Tynan Malfoy!"

The cry was strangely pained and guttural. With a lazy movement, she raised her hand, as though she was answering a teacher's question. The movements all around her stopped, and she took a moment to scan her surroundings.

The teachers that had spilled into the clearing were still looking unbelievably lost and nervous, and she smiled as she noticed one of her Death Eaters removing their wand from the throat of one brown and bushy-haired woman with owlish eyes. Several of the forest's creatures were milling anxiously around, eyeing the huge groundskeeper and Dumbledore with something of a frenzied look in their eyes.

And there, in the center of it all, stood Lucius Malfoy, flanked on either side by a Death Eater; one of them had a mask on top of his head. Tynan squealed inwardly as she noticed Antonin Dolohov; suffice to say she had spent many a time with him when she was younger.

"Lucy!" Tynan said, rising from her knees. She hadn't even realized she'd fallen over; the acromantula had been a little bit of an obstacle. "Lucy, how nice of you to drop in! Looky, here's Dumbles, so now we can have tea and chat about the old days! You know, when tea was aplenty and coffee was scarce and so on…"

He shot her a disgusted look, and she silenced herself, looking more amused than worried. "Where are the children, sister?" he growled. "The children you were supposed to have warned?"

"Oh," Tynan said nodding her head conversationally. "_Those _children. See, what happened was…er…Lucy; you know it's not smart to reveal your plans to the enemies? They are quite close," she said, making wild motions to accentuate her point.

"My son is not here," Lucius said coolly. "And until he is, you are going to be in my hold for a long, long time."

Tynan's jaw dropped down in an uncharacteristic show of surprise. She snapped it shut, finally, and stood rigid. "And just _what_," she spat, "Do you think you can make me do?"

"I have a few things at my disposal," Lucius replied airily, but his eyes were cruel and calculating and cunning. Tynan noticed.

"Alright, alright," she said, backing down. "I sent the letters, but that old fool—," she pointed at Dumbledore, who merely blinked at her. "He intercepted them! Lucy, I really couldn't be held accountable and besides if your kids heard anything don't you think they'd be out and about, right now, or conjuring the Dark Mark or having some sort of bake sale to finance Death Eater activities someplace?"

McGonagall had been relatively quite up until this point. She had a large gash down her left arm and an oozing wound on her cheek, and she wasn't quite yet in the right state/frame of mind to figure out what exactly it was that was making her legs feel so charged.

"You're mad," she said loudly and clearly.

Tynan looked over at her, eyes oddly unfocused. "Harry Potter…well, hello there," she murmured.

"What was that?" Dumbledore barked at her.

Tynan smiled at him. "Never you mind, Dumbles. You should look after your deputy instead. _Contrudo_!"

Dumbledore only moved to the side with seconds to spare as McGonagall was thrust past him, hitting the ground with remarkable force.

Lucius growled as the battle immediately started up again, cries of outrage evident. Tynan met his eyes over the crowd as she vaulted over a young and milky-colored creature, slaying it without a backward glance.

"You will someday die, sister," he muttered under his breath. "And not even your fancy tricks can save you then."

Tynan was laughing gleefully as she pointed a languid finger at a rather random Death Eater, who was cowering at the feet of one of the teachers; was that Sprout? The Herbology teacher's hat was hanging lopsidedly off her head, and she was looking unbelievably grim as she raised her wand above the Death Eater's head, but Tynan beat her to it.

Sprout's eyes widened as the Death Eater screamed, a long, loud wail of pain and remorse; his body was on fire, and it was shredding him from the very inside. From behind him, in the shadow and smoke of the flame, Tynan's mouth twisted in disgust.

"Deserters," she said quietly, "Often spontaneously combust."

Sprout stared for a moment. "Even when there is nothing to light them?"

Tynan gave her a ruthless smirk. "Deserts and deserters seem to fit, correct? Wouldn't it only make sense that they perish in the blinding heat they were due to die in anyway?"

"You killed one of your own," Sprout said flatly.

"Oh, _screw you_!" Tynan spat, suddenly furious. She kicked at the now nothing but bones Death Eater, and chucked Sprout under the chin in an almost sisterly manner. "I don't _kill_. Everyone dies; I merely quicken the process."

"Shall I quicken yours?"

Sprout was out before she knew what hit her. Tynan bent down, aware of her brother's eyes on her as she stroked the grimy cheek. "Madame," Tynan whispered, looking exactly as a succubus might before sucking the souls from their victims.

"Madame, I do believe I've already quickened _yours_."

Lucius vanished into the underbrush, motioning for his men to follow him. Tynan watched from the corner of her eye, and then straightened up. She'd seen Harry Potter in her mind, not five minutes ago, and someone she'd thought lost forever.

Spurred on by some sort of wild adrenaline rush, she shrieked again and dove into the battle, crying her battle cry with rage and ferocity that caused even Dumbledore to stumbled.

"_Blood!"_ she screeched wildly, tearing at her robes and sending those around her, whether they be friend or foe, flying. _"Draw blood for me!"_

And then she was hissing, spitting, and killing with such speed and anger that Dumbledore began to worry.

"Fall back!" he cried, unable to stand the sight any longer. "Fall back, go to the castle!" And then, as he looked at the misery before him, he uttered the one command he had never dared speak before.

"_Flee for your lives, leave the wounded behind."_

And they did.

* * *

Harry uttered a loud scream, falling in pain as he felt a raging bloodlust build inside of him. Someone started to call his name, but he was beyond them.

"_Harry!" _

His eyes opened, and the green orbs were no longer bright and emerald. Instead, they were icy blue, radiating contempt and furious and undirected anger, and he let loose another scream of agony as a sharp pain lanced up and down his side. His head felt as though it were splitting in two.

"I think," someone said indistinctly, "That he's finally gone crazy." But the same voice was soon murmuring his name in his ear, and someone was restraining him, holding onto him and sending something—tendrils of magic?—into his body.

"Sleep, Harry…sleep…" 

"No!" he shouted, and then fell back as his stomach started to convulse wildly. Harry turned over once, feeling the crackling on dry leaves on his stomach, and he was suddenly struck with a sense of overwhelming guilt, more powerful that any of the other emotions surrounding him. And then—

Calm.

A whisper of icy cold blew across his face, and wisps wrapped themselves around him, moving gently into his body, caressing his very core, and he relaxed almost immediately. His hair felt damp, and wet, and as he opened his eyes, a pair of gray ones were sparkling over his.

"Harry, you damned fool," Draco murmured.

Harry closed his eyes, and slept.

* * *

Ron was nervous as he paced the Great Hall, trying his best to ignore the cries of the wounded around him. He'd entered with Seamus and Dean and almost immediately run into Neville. The pudgy boy was sporting at least a dozen bruises all across his body, but his was a triumphant tale.

Neville had organized a battle plan that would have made Harry proud; having the seventh and sixth years split into groups that shot off volleys of whatever hexes they could think of, and then moving back. Luna, they had not yet heard of. She had disappeared long before Neville's troops were ready, with the entire first through fourth years at her side, as well as Ginny.

"What about the fifth years?" Seamus had muttered, casting about for something to drink. The house-elves were working full time already, aiding Madame Pomfrey and some of those who knew healing magic.

"They're all gone as well," Neville replied gravely. "With—what was his name? Oh, yeah, Zabini. Blaise, and Pansy Parkinson, and most of the Slytherins. Cowards," he scowled, overcome by his bout of bravery.

"Malcolm Baddock was doing pretty well," said an airy voice behind them. "Course, only by his _cowardly_ standards." The aforementioned boy was sitting on the table, covered in soot and with a pink house-elf trailing behind him.

"Baddock!" Neville spluttered. "Where're—but you were gone, before!"

"Holding up the rear, don't you know, Longbottom?" Malcolm winked roguishly at him. "We've been rallying a few here and there; took a little expedition into the fringe of the Forest now twenty minutes ago. Brought in some friends of yours too, after cleaning up the wounded outside."

And it was true; a few in clean white bandages were straggling in, collapsing in the arms of those who ran to greet them. Ron's eyes scanned the tables, and he saw the newly appeared Blaise Zabini speaking in low tones to Ginny, who was smiling brightly, despite the tired look in her eyes.

Ron started for her, but stopped as Luna Lovegood appeared in front of him. She looked unusually serious as she waved a hand bearing something in it. "Ronald," she spoke in a low voice. "We've found some people, and they're coming in. You mustn't be surprised, now, and we're just going to bring them up to the Gryffindor common room, okay?"

"Why are you telling me this?" Ron asked suspiciously, and then his voice took a panicked edge. "Where's Harry?"

Luna looked pained, and Ron let out a low moan.

"He's fine," The Ravenclaw reassured him. "He is luckier than others," she said, and for a moment her gaze flickered to a table far away from the others. Ron followed her eyes, and saw what he hadn't before.

Carleigh Ernestine was sitting on the bench, eyes unseeing. Across from her was the Ravenclaw quidditch team captain, looking as though he were ready to drop his head in his hands and sigh in frustration. Ginny and Blaise were already making their way towards them, and as the redheaded girl turned back for a moment, Ron's eyes met his sister's.

He offered her a tiny little wave, but she didn't return it. She turned away, eyes looking haunted, and for a moment, Ron was struck once more by the fact that his sister wasn't so little anymore.

"Here they come," Luna said, interrupting his musings. Ron immediately looked back to the door, and his eyes widened. Behind him, he could hear Seamus, Neville and Dean standing up quickly.

Hermione was walking in, a limping Carina on her arm. Blaise had already sighted the two, and with a loud exclamation had immediately sprinted across the way, and was hugging his sister fiercely. She was laughing and crying at the same time, and Ron distinctly heard her say something about her father before Hermione was suddenly standing in front of him, looking unbelievably tired.

"Ron," she started, but he was already drawing her into his arms, hugging her fiercely. "Hey," she said, looking startled.

"Hey," he said softly.

She smiled, and then shook her head. "Harry's—well, Draco's bringing him in, but we sort of got slowed down. Pansy and Malcolm found us coming in—we sent Malcolm for a house-elf to help levitate Harry. Draco's a little weak."

"Is he alright?"

" I said weak, Ron, not dead," Hermione began, but the redhead shook his head furiously.

"Not Malfoy. I want to know about Harry. Is _he_ alright."

"Oh," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes for a moment before letting them widen. "Oh. Harry's—,"

But she cut herself off, as Draco entered. His wings had burst out, earlier, and now he looked simply radiant; dark, and yet light at the same time. His gray eyes were weary, and yet the same arrogant smirk was quirking around his lips. Pansy was rolling her eyes as she stood away from him, and his wings fell a little as he walked over to what was supposed to have been the Gryffindor table, aware that all eyes were now on him. Gently, almost as he would treat a baby, he laid the bundle he held in his arms on the table.

Ron's gasp was like lightning as he recognized his best friend, looking pale and sickly, and suddenly very, very small as he drew in shaky breaths. His glasses were missing, and he looked so much like a little boy then that Ron felt like crying; this was Fragile, Easily Breakable Harry. Not the I Can Do Anything Harry that everyone knew, or thought they did.

"Show-off," Ron said.

Draco looked up, throwing the redhead off. Apparently, they Slytherin's hearing was better than expected. "Shame," Draco said mournfully. "I rather thought it was dramatic, and yet not over the top."

Madame Pomfrey was making her way to him, and Draco dropped his eyes. "By the way, Weasley," he said softly, so much so that Ron had to strain to hear him. "Vivicus, ring a bell? Tonight at nine."

Ron's mouth fell open. "Wha—how?"

"What does he mean?" Hermione demanded, but there was a sudden uproar in the school. The teachers were pouring in, screaming and shouting orders. Students looked suddenly frantic, and even Malcolm Baddock's cocky face fell as he heard someone shouting his father's name to another.

"Dad!" The frantic Slytherin cried. "What's this about Dad?"

Hermione was looking at Ron impatiently. "Ronald! Tell me this instant, _what does Draco mean_?"

"Malfoy!" Ron ignored her. "Self obsessed little prat!"

But Draco was being swept away, with Harry once more in his arms, Dumbledore, Snape and McGonagall right behind him. Madame Pomfrey looked furious, but she held her tongue.

"_Malfoy!"_ Ron shrieked, voice high. Hermione could see Ginny running towards them, Carina momentarily forgotten. "Malfoy, _what did you mean!_"

"Oh, Merlin, Ron," Hermione clutched at his robe. "What does it mean?"

But the doors were empty, filled only with miserable students, their lives torn suddenly from them, and Ron collapsed in a heap, eyes bright with tears. "Vivicus," he said hoarsely. "That prat—,"

And he started to laugh. Hermione brought a hand up to cover her mouth, and Ginny skidded to a halt. She knelt next to her brother, taking in his haunted eyes.

"Ron, what did Draco say?"

Her brother shoved her away, and buried his head in his arms. "Vivicus, it's so simple, Ginny! So fucking brilliant," he ended bitterly, and began to cry.

"I'm so sorry," was all she could say.

Hermione bit her lip, and with a sudden oath she grabbed Ginny's hand. "You," she said, voice trembling, "Are going to tell me what happened." The younger girl looked doubtful, but then Hermione lowered her voice. "Please."

Ginny let her eyes fall, and then sat down on the bench. Ron let his head fall gratefully into her lap, and Hermione sat next to him.

"This may not be the best place," Ginny protested. "Wait until we get to the common room."

"What could be so important that he would even tell me?" Hermione said a little bit vehemently. Ginny turned ocher eyes to her, and Hermione reeled back a little, startled at the pain hidden there.

"You don't understand, do you? Ron's deeper than just a pile of red hair and gangly bones! He's—" But her brother squeezed at her hands, and turned to look at Hermione. When he next spoke, his voice sounded strangled.

"I killed a person, once."

Hermione felt her whole world being jerked away.

* * *

Apologies beyond apologies, my friends, for being so late. I stayed up late three nights in a row because Nikki-chan MADE me read at least the first chapter of Draco Dormiens, and then I just HAD to finish the whole damn series...point being, I am now done with the Draco trilogy, finalement, but I am waiting for the second part of Draco Veritas. Damn.

**So, to Julia (whom I think I shall call Jools) Thank you for checking up on me and making sure I was alive. It's because of you I'm updating, and especially with this long chapter. It's also because CassieClaire's ficlets had me in an uproar, and I felt the need to type like hell. But here's your update, and I hope you enjoy it! **

**This probably moot point, now, btw, but I just wanted to say the new private messaging things and review replies freak me out. I was in a magical (ha) coma when I realized what they were, though, and now am planning to use them. Makes it easier on me...so log in, and I'll drop you a line. For those who are anonymus, I'll send you hidden and subliminal messages during the fic, as says review replies aren't allowed anymore.**

**Nazi fascists. **


	17. We're Getting Somewhere, Now

Disclaimer: And look…this is Posh Spice, and Sort Spice, and…oops, lost there, sorry. Not miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine!

* * *

**we're getting somewhere, now  
issalee

* * *

**

_So if you have a minute why don't we go  
Talk about it somewhere only we know?  
This could be the end of everything  
So why don't we go  
Somewhere only we know?_

-Somewhere Only We Know- Keane

* * *

Rabastan was stretched out full length on his bench in his cell, eyes closed. Outside, he could hear the distant noises that alerted him to the human presences in the castle, and he smiled. It had been so long since he'd engaged with any proper humans, those who showed emotion; compassion, mercy— 

_Fear._

His eyes flew open, and his eyebrows knit together as he remembered Harry Potter's face. The clear revulsion, and terror, all etched firmly in his mind. Rabastan shook his head, as though trying to rid himself of the image, but succeeded only in making himself dizzy.

He rolled off the bench, landing on the straw with a welcome burst of pain his shoulders and back. Rabastan moved to the wall, leaning against it, head tipped back.

"You selfish, loathsome, vile thing," he whispered. "Why do you keep us all as though we were pawns?"

The air before him shimmered slightly, and the same straw doll he'd handed to Harry appeared, ghostly smile still on its charred and twisted face. Rabastan plucked it up from the ground, frowning.

"Oh, dear, Harry. You should have _kept_ this." He tucked it into his shirt, and closed his eyes again, searching for that grim little presence that was always in the back of his mind. He'd felt it flare up nearly seven hours ago, when it was feeling intense emotion. Another victim, he thought.

"Brother…"

Rabastan opened his eyes. Perched on the bench, faded but there, was Tynan Malfoy. She was scowling, and as she looked him up and down, it was obvious she was displeased with him.

"Potter got away," she muttered.

"Yes, I know."

"It was all your fault."

Rabastan said nothing. Tynan rolled her eyes.

"You're terrible company, you know."

"The brain-dead often are."

She glared at him. "You, Bast, are the only person who can get under my skin these days, you know."

"Save for the Potter boy."

"Save for him," Tynan agreed. "I was terribly upset when that stupid nephew of mine stepped in; I nearly had Potter's mind in my grasp; could feel its hold begin to slacken already. I _so_ want to see him be just like Bellatrix," she said dreamily.

"Draco stepped in?" Rabastan asked. As Tynan spouted off oaths and curses, stewing in her failure, the white-haired man thought. So the doll hadn't worked; it had been Draco, after all who had helped. He knew, since he'd seen the babe with his tuft of blonde hair; Draco Malfoy was going to be a very special person.

"Are you even listening?" Tynan said irritably. "You called me, I know, but why? At the moment, Lucius is off sulking somewhere. I set all of my people to mill around in the Forest, and set up a few lookouts."

"Feeling compassionate?" Rabastan mocked. "The Great Crimson is letting her troops lick their weary wounds?" When she didn't rise to the bait, he let his head droop. "I'm tired. You're pulling too much at my power."

"You whine too much."

"You're drawing away all my bloody magic!" He said, a little hysterically. "My mind is only intact because it's too bloody smart for you!"

There was a momentary silence, and then the Tynan shook her head, blonde hair falling in beautiful rivulets, cascading around her shoulders in an effect she knew would stun most men into shock. But not Rabastan. She watched him, eyes narrowed, and then she shrugged.

"You know why you're here, Bast. Bellatrix was easy to break; the very first time my magic touched her, she nearly died in agony. You, my little friend, are a tough nut. And besides, as long as you do your job, you'll be just fine, right?"

"I hate you," Rabastan said dolefully.

"There's a good pet," Tynan said, and flickered in and out. Rabastan watched with interest. It took a great deal of magic to do even this minimal form of astral projection, but as always, the young Malfoy lady was performing beautifully.

"You want to stay and play?" He said brightly, deciding to play one of his most used cards. He was not crazy, he thought, but it was nice knowing people backed out when he let his intuition take over.

Tynan opened her mouth to refuse, and then caught sight of the charred doll peeking out from his pocket. "What is that?" she snapped. "If that's what I think it is, Lestrange, you're going to wish you'd never—"

"Been born?" Rabastan said, eyes emotionless as he shifted so that the doll was hidden from view. "I already do. And it's just a puppet. Here, have one," he said, and threw one of the many littering the ground through the blonde's form.

She scowled darkly. "I honestly don't understand you."

"Neither do I."

Rolling her eyes, Tynan took a step back, and in a moment, had disappeared. Rabastan, now all alone in the cell once more, tapped thoughtfully at his head.

That—had been a very interesting meeting indeed.

* * *

They decided against going to the common room, in the end, and skipped straight ahead to where they would have ended up anyways; the Room of Requirement. Hermione collapsed into the silken black pillows that were edged with gold first, followed shortly by Ron and Ginny. The room was painted in a soft gold hue, with candles in the middle of a circle of golden-edged black pillows. A walkway led from the door to the large square in the middle of an endless ocean, on which lilies were floating in endless circles.

Hermione touched the white marble. Marveled at how cool it could seem, while she herself was sweating. After this, she thought, she was definitely going to take a shower.

"It happened before our fourth year," Ron said softly. Hermione started; she hadn't expected him to be so open about it so soon. But their trek had calmed all of them down. Ginny was sitting a little ways off from them, eyes closed, and hand trailing in the water.

"What did?" Hermione pressed gently.

"My own little war," Ron murmured, and she was suddenly struck by how vulnerable he looked, hair falling to cover his eyes. "It wasn't even two weeks after we'd gone to the Burrow, and I was starting to feel bored…"

There was a long pause, as though Ron was struggling to say something, but couldn't. Ginny saved him, though.

"So he snuck out of the house." The two glanced at her, but she still had her eyes closed, and one pale hand was still in the water. "He left right after dinner, because Mum and Dad were going away for a week, and they had left Bill in charge of us. Bill thought we would be fine on our own, and had gone for the night to meet a friend for drinks."

"I followed Bill," Ron interrupted. "Followed him on my broomstick, while he took Dad's car. He stopped off in Diagon Alley, and when he was gone, I sort of just stood there. I didn't know what to do, 'Mione." He lifted his hands in a sort of helpless gesture.

Hermione remained silent, and Ron cast one more glance at her before continuing. "So I started to walk down the street, and I just kept going, with my broomstick in my hand. Course, I'm clumsy, doesn't everyone know it. I dropped it when I heard someone calling my name."

Ginny took up the story from there. "It was me," she said. "I had followed _him_. You can't fool me as easy as you do everyone else, Ronald," she muttered sourly.

"And when he was done scolding me, I told him I'd brought Charlie's old Comet 260, and that he could fly with me to Hole In The Cauldron, so we could get some butterbeers."

"But I couldn't find my broomstick," Ron said, getting in stride now. "And I _couldn't_ leave it, I had nothing to say to Mum and Dad if I did! And me and Ginny walked all over, looking for it, and then, only because we were desperate, we went into Knockturn Alley."

"Oh, _Ron_," Hermione said, letting her breath out in one _whoosh_, but he didn't seem to hear and kept on.

"And I _knew_ I shouldn't have gone, but Hermione—you should have seen it. I was like one big party. Everyone was dancing, and singing, and there were drinking all sorts of things. Basilisk Breath, Hermione, the finest wine you could find anywhere in all of the wizarding world! I lost Ginny, and while I was looking, I got distracted."

He blushed, and Hermione felt her stomach drop to her feet.

"There was this lady, with long blonde hair that fell in huge curls around her feet. She was wearing this weird outfit that I saw when we went to Egypt, but Mum said only gypsies and…scarlet women wear those. She pressed a goblet into my hands, and told me to drink."

"And you did." Hermione said flatly.

Ron's face was hidden from view as he looked down. "Yeah. And I saw a lot of things right after I drank some, Hermione. People were screaming, and everyone else was laughing. I started to shout for Ginny, but all of a sudden I couldn't hear her, couldn't hear anything but me, _just me_, and I hated it.

"I walked all the way to the end of Knockturn alley, but there were still ages and ages of people to get through. I didn't—I just looked up and I saw this—they were all wearing masks, at the end of the alley, and I realized they must have been Death Eaters. I was scared, Hermione. I turned around and just then one of them shouted and pulled out a wand—so I ran."

"Where to," Hermione asked, voice frosty. Ron winced.

"Anywhere. I was just trying to get out of the way, and I couldn't move right and my head hurt, and then I saw her, this little girl who was just standing off to the side and she looked so lost…"

As Ron's voice faded away, Hermione's mind put together the bits and pieces. A horrified look crossed her face, and she stared at Ron. "You _didn't_," she hissed, but he only cringed at the spite in her voice. "Instead of picking her up and carrying her to safety, maybe, you just killed her? With what, an Avada?"

"No!" Ron protested. "It wasn't like that! I told her to move, and I even tried to push her but she just moved away and she wouldn't get the hell _away_—," his voice was hoarse now, and he blinked rapidly as he attempted to wipe away the coming tears. "Hermione, she was _unnatural_."

"That's what you thought—"

"No, it's what I _knew_!" Ron threw at her. Before she could protest, Hermione's view was blocked by Ginny, who had stepped in front of her brother as though protecting him.

"She wasn't ordinary, Hermione. You _know_ how Death Eaters play around with kids they find, and she wasn't human."

"How do you know that?" the older girl said, a little hysterically. "Maybe she could have had a chance! Maybe she could have still lived, and your brother pushed her away without a second _thought_!"

"She was probably going to die anyway," Ron muttered miserably from behind Ginny. Hermione, furious, stood up so quickly Ginny never saw the movement. The older Gryffindor pushed the other girl out of the way, and leaned down so that her face was nearly touching Ron's.

"So tell me, _Weasley_," she said. "What _did_ you do?"

Ron refused to lower his eyes, and clenched his fists. His red hair fell in awkward curls across his forehead, not obscuring his eyes as they did Harry's, but in the way nonetheless. The brilliant blue eyes that Hermione had always managed to find a twinkle of hope or laughter behind were dimmed, and she had to work hard to keep up the angry glint in her eyes.

"I," Ron said, voice soft and barely audible. "I cast the Vivicus Curse."

"And _what_ does this curse do?"

Hermione had, of course, read nearly every book in the library. But nearly was not enough in some instances; she did not know all the answers all the time. She watched as several emotions ran across Ron's face; mainly fear, anger, and regret. And then, most surprisingly of all, amusement.

"Find out yourself, Hermione. I see you're mad at me; we can't have that, now can we?" His tone was bitter, and he stood quickly. His sharp gaze landed on Ginny, who was kneeling on the ground next to the both of them, arms wrapped around herself, looking gloomy.

"I don't blame you for telling Malfoy," he said slowly, and waited for her eyes to light up before he let his anger show. "But I do hate you for it."

Both girls watched him go in heavy silence, Hermione with her mouth twisted in a scowl that seemed more sad than angry. Ginny stared at the door for a moment before she turned, sliding herself a scant few inches away, and retched into the still waters surrounding them. Hermione turned at the sound, just in time to catch Ginny as the younger girl fell back.

"Are you alright?" she said.

Ginny started to cry.

* * *

Draco had his reasons for everything he did. He never had and never would do anything without having a reason and evidence to back it up. Now, as he sat in the same room that had once housed him in the week after Harry had been bitten, he reviewed the reasons for his words in the Great Hall.

One, the Weasel disturbed him, and he hated all of the Weasleys but Ginny anyways. Besides, Ron had been acting like a twit for a while now, and he needed to stop before Draco muttered the Killing Curse and let his wand slip in the redhead's direction.

Two, Draco needed to talk to him, but he wasn't sure if Weasley would have listened to him. The only thing that could have gotten him to where Draco wanted to see him was a few well-placed words on a little-known subject; what Ginny had told him accidentally after fifth year, and then sworn him to secrecy about.

A rustle of covers made him turn and look at the boy lying on the bed next to him. Harry had been sleeping for the most part of three hours now; the potion Madame Pomfrey had pushed down his throat was supposed to send him into a dreamless sleep for only one. Absently, Draco reached up a hand and tugged lightly on one of the curls around Harry's forehead. He smirked in delight as he saw the cool wisp of his aura move from his fingers to wind around the lock, and then move slowly down to settle in Harry's forehead. His own little magic trick. Harry stirred again, and a small smile flitted across his face before disappearing completely. Draco was thrilled.

It was only a backlash of magical power, Madame Pomfrey had said. Harry was strong, but the amount used on him in that Cruciatus was enough to drive most people insane. As of yet, they had no idea if he was of sound mind. They would have to wait until he woke up. Draco frowned; he wished Harry were awake, right now.

His frown deepened. Since when had he become so reliant in Harry sodding Potter? A growl escaped his throat, and he clenched the sides of the chair he'd been in anger. It was all this damned Urian side's fault. And Harry—

Draco let his head drop in his hands sourly as he remembered what Harry had said. He'd never wanted this, anymore than the Slytherin had. And now he was stuck with Draco Malfoy for the rest of his life. A sudden wave of guilt washed over him, and he thrice cursed his stupid emotion-magnifying Urian side before letting his mind wander.

It _was_ all his bloody fault, wasn't it? He wasn't even sure if maybe Harry really liked him. What if he was just sending out another sort of attraction, and they just failed to mention it in the book they'd found? His hand unconsciously slipped into his shirt, and he stroked the spine of the newly shrunken version that fit perfectly in his cloak's inner pockets. Draco suddenly felt miserable. He was taking away everything Harry was fighting for, what he had been missing his whole life, what he wished for everyone to have: _freedom_. _Choice_.

_When this is over, Harry, you'll have all that._

He looked back at the boy lying in the bed, so still he could have been dead, and another pang jolted him. He would have to do something for Harry; something to make up for all of it when Tynan was gone and the world was finally at peace. Something Harry wanted more than anything on earth. He lifted his hand, and this time brought it up to cup Harry's cheek.

_All that and more_, he promised.

* * *

He was still like that, eyes unfocused and hand gently stroking the pale skin when Harry woke up. Draco didn't notice until something wrapped around his hand, and squeezed. The blonde looked down, and with a startled look on his face, whispered, "Hey."

"Hi." Harry's voice came out hoarse, and he had to try again before he was properly heard. "Where are my glasses?" he asked, rubbing at his eyes.

"Not here."

"I realized that," he said irritably. With some difficulty, the Gryffindor pushed himself up into a sitting position, and surveyed his surroundings. Draco watched as emotions played across Harry's face, ending finally with curiosity.

"And the castle? Are the students okay? And the teachers?"

Draco laughed, a short, dry one that told Harry exactly how he was being thought of at this moment. "Always so chivalrous, Potter. They're fine. Some casualties, to be expected, but everyone's fine."

"Ron and Hermione?"

"Still kicking, unfortunately."

Harry ignored the comment and leaned back, obviously relieved. Emerald eyes met mercury orbs. "Are _you_ okay?" he asked softly.

Draco nodded shortly, and pulled himself even more into the chair, realizing with surprise that he was still holding Harry's hand. "You've been out of it for a while," he said, by way of distraction. But Harry didn't answer; he too, had noticed. With a deft move that shocked Draco into stillness, Harry laced their fingers together.

They stayed like that for a moment, and then the Gryffindor shifted forward, using his other hand to trace patterns on the back of Draco's hand. The Slytherin watched, half-fascinated and half-afraid, his skin tingling. Harry's fingers moved with the same skill they used when playing quidditch, and he made languid, slow and tantalizing movements that soothed rather than disturbed.

"You're forgiven," he whispered.

"What?" Draco said, surprised.

Harry looked up at him, and Draco was struck by the realization that, without his glasses, Harry was a different and wholly exotic creature indeed.

"You're forgiven," he said again, more slowly this time.

"I heard that," Draco snapped. "But what have I done that needs forgiving?"

Harry shrugged, and pushed the covers off him. "I don't know. Everything? You look like you've been to Hell and back, and there's a lot of regrets to carry back, I bet." At this cryptic answer, Draco drew his hand back, and quickly stifled the urge to return it to Harry's.

"You've gone insane," he stated, thinking immediately of what Madame Pomfrey had said. Harry shook his head in amusement, and attempted to slide out of bed. _Attempted to_ being the key phrase here, as he had only just let his feet touch the ground when Draco's arm shot out, stopping him.

"Let me go, please," he said coolly.

"How about 'no'," Draco said. He cocked an eyebrow at the other boy. "Where do you think you're going? You're ill."

"No, I'm _not_," Harry said, just a little angrily. "I want to go see my friends, Malfoy, and I want to make sure for myself that they're alright."

And then, quietly, "Not that I don't trust your word or anything. But I just—need to see them." He looked up again, eyes seeing something past Draco that wasn't really there. "They've always been with me when I most needed them, and I have the feeling they may need me now."

The look Draco gave him was indecipherable, but the blonde slowly pulled his arm back. "Then leave," he said sourly. Harry shot him an apologetic look, but Draco pretended not to see it as the Gryffindor moved to the other side of the room, where his things were. Mme. Pomfrey had not removed his school uniform. The only things she had taken were his cloak and shoes. As Harry slipped on his trainers, he gave one more scan of the room, but no replacement glasses were there.

"Oh, come here, you idiot." Draco had been watching him, and now he motioned for Harry to come closer. Surprised, Harry did as he was told and walked cautiously over to Draco, who gently shoved him backwards. Harry sat down hard on the bed, blinking owlishly. Draco leaned in, and Harry closed his eyes as cool fingers were laid across his eyelids. "I hope you never find your glasses again, by the way," he murmured.

"What? Being sadistic again, I thought you stopped."

Draco smirked, and chanted softly. In a moment, he had removed his fingers, and Harry opened his eyes. His vision was clear, so much so in fact that it seemed ever better than a normal person's. "Wow," he said. "Just—wow."

Draco stood and stretched in the same fluid motion. "I'm coming with you, then. I've got friends of my own as well."

"Really?" Harry retorted as he stood and started for the door. "And here I thought you were joking." Draco snorted, and Harry looked at him, a sudden thought struck him. "Malfoy, couldn't you just conjure up glasses anyway? You're an Urian, right? And if you have enhanced magical powers and powers over the elements and all that jazz…well…"

"I could?" Draco said, expression changing from surprised to intrigued in one movement. "I could…" Experimentally, he lifted a hand. Harry moved back against the wall, leaning on it as he watched in interest.

Draco closed his eyes, and his brow furrowed ever so slightly. The air beneath his outstretched hand suddenly seemed touchable, but clear. Harry felt the hairs on his neck rise as all the magic in the room was suddenly amplified, drawn towards one source. He saw something peripherally, and turned just in time to duck as something flew past him; a _flower_? One of the ones from a vase on the dresser.

Harry looked back up to catch the flower floating underneath Draco's hand, and spinning erratically. Bulbs of light gathered around it, moving in and out as if trying to get into the flower, but something was stopping it. Draco by now was gritting his teeth in visible effort, but his eyes were still closed. Harry frowned in worry; he had just been joking about the glasses. If Draco was going to be hurt—

"Malfoy! Draco! Leave it, I was just—"

Harry yelped in pain as his head was knocked back against the wall, just as the lights all attacked the flower in multitude, and everything was encompassed in a dark green mist. Harry blinked away the stars dancing in his eyes, watching warily as the mist cleared with suspicious promptness. His eyes widened, however, at who was now standing directly in front of him.

Draco held out the new black glasses exactly like Harry's own, and smiled a little sluggishly. "There y'go, Potter." Harry was distracted. Draco's eyes had opened, and the gray color was gone; even the new mercury luster added by his transformation was just barely there. Flecks of green and gold had intertwined, forming a color that Harry could not name, but as he watched, they began to fade. Shaking himself out his stupor, Harry reached out a hand for the glasses.

"What? No reward for all my trouble?" Draco said. His voice sounded tired, and he looked even more like that. "Just joking, here."

But Harry suddenly felt ashamed. He had just used Draco in the way he had promised himself he wouldn't, and the Slytherin didn't even seem to mind. He ha to give him something back; but what do you give to one who has everything? He looked at Draco again, noting the fact that his hair was falling around his frame, the rubber band that had been holding it before supposedly vaporized. His eyes suddenly lit up with an idea.

"No," Harry said softly. "No, you get a reward."

Draco looked startled, but even more so when Harry reached up his arms and twined them around his neck, pulling the other boy closer.

"Wha—" Draco began, but was cut off as he automatically leaned in. The hand with the glasses in it was placed against the wall, and his arm automatically curled around Harry's waist. He blinked, and then smirked.

"Why, Harry, I never knew."

The Gryffindor began to blush, but was cut off. Draco caught his lips with a passion that seared at him, and he was reminded of their earlier kisses, but this one seemed—_different_. He suddenly felt very cold, and the air around him seemed to be frigid. But Draco was emanating warmth, so it was Draco he moved towards. Harry gasped in shock as Draco's hand slipped up his shirt, tracing patterns in his skin, leaving cool trails all along his heated skin.

A very satisifed moan left his lips as Draco pulled in closer, and Harry arched his back, tipping his head back so as to allow Draco better access to his neck. The Slytherin nipped lightly at the skin, and then, turning rather possesive, wrapped both his arms around Harry's waist, pushing him firmly back against the wall and kissing with such an urgency that both of them were forced to release small sighs of pleasure, although Harry's was more of a purring, thrumming noise than anything. Draco swept his tongue in languid movements in the bowl that was Harry's collarbone, nearly smirking as the Gryffindor's knees shook, and then gave way. Both of them sank down to the ground, breatheless and feeling distincly aroused, as was later advertised.

"Potter..."

"What?" Harry trailed his fingers through Draco's hair, mussing it up so that no amount of gel found on Earth could repair it. "Oh, _Merlin._"

"Pray tell, are you really that excited?" A furious blush lit up Harry's cheeks, and Draco let out a low chuckle of amusement. Harry opened his mouth angrily, but Draco took the opportunity to press his mouth against the other boy's, and to let his tongue invade. Immediatly, he felt his shirt ripping and groaned as he pulled back, eyeing his tingling wings with dissapointment.

"That," he said severely to them, "Was Adam Manticore. Very expensive."

"You're vain," Harry said, eyes foggy and looking dazed as he leaned against Draco's chest, and kissed the strong jaw lightly. Draco didn't say a word, only pushed the other boy back so that Harry was now fimrly against the wall, unable to move as his shirt was unbuttoned slowly, and soft, passionate kisses were pressed to his lips.

"Is that all you can say?" Draco murmured as he nuzzled Harry's neck lightly, and then immediatly returned to Harry's mouth. When he pulled away, he looked just as dazed as Harry. "Or is there something else to describe me?"

Harry tried to, really really tried to form some articulate words, something that would make Draco think highly of him, but then one of the blonde's hands strayed down towards his pants, brushing lightly against his arousal. Harry arched his back again, thanked all the dieties in the world for this new Urian side of Draco's, and said the only thing he could.

"Gah," he said.

* * *

Blaise raised an eyebrow as he sighted Ron stamping past the Great Hall, looking furious. He was slightly more disappointed that he had to wait nearly an hour for Ginny and Hermione to come by, and whilst the older girl slipped away to go and supposedly find Weasley, Ginny merely searched out Carleigh and sat next to her. Carina slipped into the bench and smiled. Blaise, now curious, moved amongst the students to listen in.

"…and I know it'll be just fine. Better, even," Carina was saying to Carleigh. "We won't be 3-C anymore, but we've got a lot more going for us."

Ginny took a different approach. "Listen to me, Leigh," she said firmly. "Do you think Chloris would have wanted us to just sit around and stew in our own misery? Things happen, okay?"

"You don't get it," Carleigh spat at her. "You don't know what it's like to have done something that could ruin everything people have ever worked for! You don't know what it's like to have to stand by and not do anything!"

"I, more than anyone," Ginny said, looking more amused than angry. Carleigh realized her mistake, but mistook Ginny's indifferent façade.

"I hate you," she hissed. "And I don't ever want to see you again. My sister, _my sister_, has just died and you're sitting here laughing about something you should have gotten over! For Merlin's sake Voldemort is _dead_! The bitch who killed my sister is still wandering around, ruining the lives of others while you sit here and reminisce! You're pathetic!"

Ginny shook with anger, but didn't say anything. Carina reached out a consoling hand, and laid it on her shoulder. "Hey, Leigh, drop it. I know you're upset—we all are—but you have no right to take it out on Ginevra. She's just trying to help, is all."

"Help?" Carleigh narrowed her eyes. "I can't believe you're protecting her, especially if you know what she's doing to your brother."

Blaise's eyes widened, and he leaned in even closer, nearly decapitating a Hufflepuff first year as he did so.

Carina cast an awkward glance at Ginny, who looked shocked, before she spoke. "What do you mean?" she asked slowly.

"She's playing some twisted cat and mouse game, with him, Rin. She doesn't really _like_ him," Carleigh said, her face twisted with the anger of one who had been through too much to realize what she was saying. "She's probably just using him to get at Harry sodding Potter."

"Who is, coincidentally, bonded to Draco sodding Malfoy," a soothing voice broke in between them. "And, by the way, I don't think Draco would be happy to hear anyone use _his_ endearment for Harry." Luna winked serenely at them, before extending a hand to Carleigh.

"Shall we go? I've just found a nice bottle of Ogden's and all the Kritzlies are gone, so my common room is safe."

There was a pregnant pause, and the Ginny huffed irritably. "I suppose no one wants to hear the man snatcher's opinion, but just in case you do she says she's going off to someplace—mayhaps Hell, so she can burn there—and that Carleigh should really go get drunk with Luna and Carina should go find and make out with someone who has been really heroic, no offense meant." She slammed her palms on the table as she stood, and then stalked off. Blaise, smirking widely, strutted out from his hiding place (behind Millicent Bulstrode) and walked by the table, being careful to avoid everyone's eyes but Luna's as he walked after Ginny.

Carina rolled her eyes. "Show-off."

Carleigh didn't say anything. She merely took Luna's hand, and vanished into the crowd. Carina, all alone at the table, let her face settle into her chin.

"Bugger," she said with feeling. "I suppose I'd better find Longbottom, then."

* * *

Unbloodybelievable. It snowed, and me and Nikki-chan went rolling down random hills all over town, and when I get home I am suddenly inspired beyond inspired. THIS FIC HAS DIRECTION NOW, BEWARE!

On the sadnosity side, if I need to get cold as bloody what to become inspired, don't expect an update as soon as...well...before Chrimboli. Maybe, if you all review. Actually, am very much down in the dumps what with all these crap entrance exams, but if anyone were to...er...let me put it simply.

I am not used to requesting reviews. Review-whore that I am, I don't withold chapters till I hit a quota. But even three words ("Fic is awesome!") bring me up so much that I'm immediatly inspired to write more! If I don't think anyone's liking this...meh.

To Jools: Yes, well, Harry's favorite food shall come out soon. I swear, and not in the gaynessness of the term. No, Harry shall be...different. His frut shall be...slightly lust-driven and very much Draco-luff related.

* * *


	18. We Can Tread Water, But We Could Still D

Disclaimer: Ngggggggggggggggggggggh.

_Singin' about, oh love, it's a brittle madness  
I sing about it in all my sadness  
It's not falsified to say that I found god so inevitably well  
It still exists pale and fine. I can't dismiss  
And I won't resist and if I die well at least I tried  
And we just lay awake in lust and rust in the rain  
And pour over everything we say we trust  
It happened again, I listened in thru hallways and thin doors  
Where the rivers unwind, rust and in the rain endure  
The rust and the rain so thin, and I'm in like Flynn again  
So go on place your order now  
Cause some other time is right around the clock  
You can stand in line; well, it finally begins, oh just around the block  
You can have your pick if your stomach is sick whether you eat or not  
And there is just one thing I almost forgot  
Oh, see you and me, we just lay awake in lust  
In rust in the rain and pour over everything we say we trust  
It happened again, I listened in thru hallways and thin doors  
Where the rivers unwind, the rivers unwind so easy  
These are the comforts that be  
You see well I'm feeling lucky oh well, maybe that's just me  
Well, you'd be so proud of me,  
oh well, if you could only see  
That we're gonna grow on up to be, ah yes  
We are thick as thieves  
Singin' about, oh love, it's a brittle madness  
I sing about it in all my sadness  
It's not falsified to say that I found god  
Inevitably, well it still exists pale and fine I can't dismiss  
And I won't resist and if I die well at least I tried  
And we just lay awake in lust and rust in the rain  
And pour over everything we say we trust  
It happened again, I listened in thru hallways and thin doors  
Where the rivers unwind and the rust and the rain endure  
The rust and the rain endure, I'm sure  
Because I am in so far to know the measure of love ain't loss  
Love will never ever be  
In so far to know the measure of love ain't loss  
Love will never ever be  
In so far to know the measure of love ain't loss  
Love will never ever be lost on me  
Oh, not tonight see, love will never ever be lost on me  
Love will never ever be lost on me  
Love will not be, love will never be lost on me  
Love will not be lost on me  
_

_-On Love, In Sadness- Jason Mraz

* * *

_

**We Can Tread Water, But We Could Still Drown**

**issalee

* * *

**

Bellatrix blinked moodily as she watched Tynan leaned against a tree. She was tired, but Tynan had summoned her and she had to obey. Not so much because of the fact that she was the greater power, though.

"Bella," the Lady Malfoy mused. "Bella, what do you think we should do about Mr. Potter?"

"Kill him," Bellatrix offered automatically. Tynan laughed.

"Oh, but he's become such a darling little thing! As I thought Draco to be," and here her eyes flashed dangerously, but quickly returned to normal. "He is dark, Bella. Harry Potter is one of the evilest wizards known to man."

"Pardon?" Bellatrix said, not really listening as she shredded a flower's stem. The liquid oozed out onto her slim finger, and she wiped it absently on her dress, ignoring Tynan's frown of disapproval. She reached for another flower as the blonde started up again.

"He had much magic in him when he was born, and it could have been used either way. For the dark or for the light. His mother's little gift to him, that stupid sacrifice, forced him to make his choice the light. But now, Bella, he is approaching that age."

"_What_ age?" Bellatrix was forgetting to be submissive, irritable as she was. Tynan shot her a look and tugged sharply at the recess of the widow Black's mind, until Bellatrix slid down the length of a tree and grimaced. "Sorry," she said contritely.

"You could die at any moment, Bellatrix, if I were to sever this connection between us," Tynan mused. "Do you remember, how I found you on the brink of death before that your last assignment; the Longbottoms, wasn't it? I pulled you back, tied you to me, and then left."

"I don't remember."

"Harry Potter is special because he was tied to his mother in that same way," Tynan gabbled, excited. "She died, of course, before she managed to tie him completely to her. If she had succeeded, he probably would've been near immune. But as he reaches the age where witches and wizards naturally take a crossroad, it's been fading."

"You researched this all?" She was forgetting, again.

Tynan didn't notice. "When Harry Potter turns 17, from midnight on his birthday to midnight the next day, he will have absolutely no memory of what has happened beyond a certain point. That, Bellatrix, is when he must be in our hands. As long as he accepts the darkness, even if it's a split second before or just _for_ a second, he will forever be indebted to the dark, and live it like he should have. I will forgive him all his misgivings, because I know he will eventually join me."

Satisfied, the Malfoy stood and approached her sister-in-law, whose eyes had darkened to the same dark black Sirius's used to hold, in their fury and passionate moments.

"I need you to do something, something very important for me, Bellatrix Black Lestrange. Will you, as my bounded, my friend, my sister-in-law and thus kin, do this for me?"

Bellatrix wondered warily why Tynan had to go and invoke a sacred oath at this time, at this moment. She could feel rather than hear Lucius approaching, and knew she had no time to mull over the answer, and that there was only one answer. She looked at Tynan again, who had her small, perfect mouth wide open, eyes shimmering with the now dissipating exhilaration of regaling herself with the piece of information she'd probably spent ages attempting to memorize, and her blonde wisps of hair falling to obscure some of her eyes, and how she was everything Bellatrix hated and yet admired and wanted to be, despite the fact that Tynan thought Bellatrix to be nothing more than a droplet of water in a great, wide ocean.

There was the crunching noise of boots on leaves, and Tynan glanced up as Lucius entered the clearing, alone, and looking furious. Bellatrix suddenly yearned for an infinite chasm to throw herself into, or at least for Harry Potter to appear and kill her. No, not kill. Maybe torture, but Bellatrix had her limits and even she was afraid of dying.

"Yes, I'll do it," she whispered. Tynan looked back down at her, face closed off and impassive as she closed Bellatrix's hand around a piece of parchment she'd shoved in.

"Do this tonight," she hissed, and then straightened, pushing Bellatrix aside as a clear dismissal. The black-haired woman rose, reveling in the tension between the two siblings next to her. She bowed, hiding a smirk, and swept away. The parchment, she scanned quickly and then touched the tip of her wand to. Her eyes, haunted and dim, began to close, but she stopped only when she fell.

Her tears mingled with the soot on her fingers and face, and she wished terribly that she could have been, at that moment, with her family again. Faintly, a thought occurred in her mind. Could she talk to Narcissa?

And then she laughed, because the dead didn't talk back.

* * *

"What were you thinking?" Lucius spat at her, his rage clear from the way his hands were gripping his wand tightly. His cane, always at his side, was clipped to his belt like a sword and its scabbard. 

"I was _thinking_, that your son is a traitor to our line!" Tynan sagged a little, realizing that she didn't want to discuss this at all. "Lucius, he is an Urian, right?"

Lucius didn't answer.

"Do you know who his mate is? Harry Potter, Lucius. Harry Potter, the enemy, and the one person who could foil up all your plans. Every time you bragged to the Dark Lord or to a Death Eater, or even to some random person, you would tell them that your son was destine for Great Things, with capital letters. You would always tell them that he would do things no one had ever done before. Well, doesn't he take the cake?"

"Shut up," Lucius said. "You've always been spoiled, and now you're not getting your way and you think that by lying you can make up for it." But he was pale, in a way that told Tynan he had believed at least a little bit of her story.

"And he's going to turn around and hit you when you're least expecting it," she continued, enjoying herself now. "He's changed. Haven't you heard the reports the Death Eaters have sent in? 'Odd, pale-haired boy, with blue eyes and sometimes giant wings'?"

"No one's actually seen him."

"Because he always stayed hidden." Tynan shrugged. "But I do remember having a hysterical Death Eater return to me and claim that a centaur they had taken captive had slaughtered Wormtail and another Death Eater, a woman I think. But they had been killed by magic. I sensed Malfoy magic."

Lucius eyed her for a moment, and then he spun on his heel. "Fuck you," he threw back, and strode away. Tynan smiled.

Why was it so easy being her?

* * *

"Oh, yes. And during the summers, my father and I used to practice saving drowning men from certain deaths with ropes; I still remember our mantra. 'First one end—then the other'." 

Harry laughed, and leaned back against the headboard of the bed. Draco's lips quirked into a half-smile from his position on the windowsill; they'd both been like that for nearly an hour now, since their heated session had ended when voices had been heard through the door and, panicked, they had jumped apart. The awkwardness of the situation had built a wall of tension between them before Draco had held out Harry's now reduced to a squished flower glasses, and had looked thoroughly confused about it.

"Seriously, Malfoy," Harry said. "What _do_ you do over the summers? I know you don't go out and have a great vacation, you're too pale to have done that."

Draco looked indignant. "I'll have you know in some places people who are pale are _preferred_, Potter. Besides," he said, sniffing airily as he eyed Harry's olive skin. "I think you're tan enough for the both of us."

"Oh, so now we're an 'us'?"

"Only if you want it," Draco said flippantly. At the silence that came after it, he glanced over quickly at Harry and cast about for a new subject. "What do _you_ do over _your_ summers, Potter?"

Harry shrugged, face suddenly guarded. "Er…sharpen up my knowledge of magical spells so I can hex the hell out of you the next year?"

"Very funny," Draco said dryly. "But this means you must dabble in the Dark Arts, eh, Potter? I can just see it—Harry Potter, squaring off against his ultimate enemy."

Harry's eyes darkened dangerously. "Malfoy, don't—,"

"No matter how hard Harry tries, he just can't seem to _hate_ the damn enemy, and he hates _himself_ for it."

"Malfoy—,"

"And this enemy, so terribly and widely known, is actually—"

Harry let loose a surprising torrent of oaths and curses, and Draco let a loose grin come over his lips as the Gryffindor stood on the bed, glaring. "I swear, Malfoy, if you so much as utter the Dark Lord's name—"

"A white rabbit."

"—I'll—what?" Harry blinked for a moment, lost, and Draco laughed.

"You, Potter, are completely and totally paranoid."

"A few less attempts on my life could have solved that, don't you think?" Harry flopped back down on the bed, forehead wrinkling. "When d'you think Pomfrey will come and unlock this door?"

As they had realized shortly after making themselves presentable, the door was locked from the inside, and no locking spell they could think of could open it. Draco was still recuperating from the use of his powers, and had only come up with one suggestion so far. Harry, unfortunately, did not want to 'shag the time away', so they had resorted to picking each other's brains instead.

"When she decides she likes me," Draco said.

"So, what, never ever?"

They both laughed, and then Harry waved a little at the window. "What do you think of this, Malfoy? All of this?"

Draco frowned. "All of what? And don't call me Malfoy."

But Harry ignored him. "What would happen, Malfoy, if I hadn't been around? If I had died all those years ago?"

"I'd be one mate short, wouldn't I?"

"But wouldn't that mean you'd die?" Harry finally looked at him, and Draco felt a rush of fury. He had seen Harry's eyes get dark, so dark that they were black, like a raging sea or storm that you were afraid of falling into, because you knew you'd never get out. This time, Harry's eyes were just as dark, but flat somehow. They seemed bottomless, emotionless, and made Harry's whole image seem lost.

"Don't do that," Draco hissed. He noticed Harry start, but the blonde had moved quickly to the side of the bed, realizing dimly in the back of his mind that Harry was one of those few people who could change any atmosphere into something else.

"Do what?" Harry asked, genuinely bewildered as he sat up straighter. "I haven't _done_ anything, except maybe muse about some things."

"Then don't muse!" Draco cried, suddenly exasperated. "What is it that makes you so upset, Harry?" The question was wrong, all wrong, but somehow the Gryffindor understood what was really meant.

"I'm afraid," Harry whispered, stopping that fiery flow of heat and anger inside of Draco's veins. The Slytherin blinked, surprised, and then kneeled, placing his head on his hands, situated at the edge of the bed.

"Come here," he said softly, rolling his eyes in barely concealed amusement. Harry hesitantly lowered himself to Draco's level, and when they were both still, Draco sighed. "Alright. Now, let's try this again. What are you, Harry Potter, afraid of?"

There was a moment of silence between them, almost as though everything in the room that could make a noise had been shut off, in expectance of that single, penetrating question. Harry's thoughts were muddled as he glanced at Draco, and than down at his palms, and finally back at Draco again.

"I'm afraid," he said, feeling vaguely guilty that he was confessing this to Draco Malfoy, not Ron and Hermione. "I'm afraid of forgetting. Forgetting my parents, and Ron, and Hermione, and the Weasleys, who were the only nice people I've ever had. I'm afraid that I'll forget all about Hogwarts, and—you."

He took a breath, and then it was like a dam had just collapsed inside of him, because everything was rushing out. "I'm afraid that someday, I'll be all alone, and no one will remember _me_. They'll ignore me, and hate me, and it's not even the publicity I need, I just want my _friends_ to remember. I'm afraid all the people I care about will be gone, and I'll still be here, and I won't be able to die.

"I'm afraid of drowning, or dying in any way where it won't be peaceful, and quick. I'm afraid of never being allowed to say good-bye, or leaving something behind. But I'm afraid that I may not pass Advanced Potions, even though Hermione's been helping me study like mad, and that my Firebolt might be ruined. It's—a memento, and I don't want to lose it. I'm afraid that someday I'll be able to see perfectly, and then my dulled, perfect little world will become vivid, and I don't want to see all the bright things just to lose them when I die. This charm, the one you put on me, it's okay because it's just like wearing glasses.

"I'm frightened that I'll trip and embarrass myself in front of you, or someone I know or strangers, and that I'll be humiliated forever. I'm scared that I'll never see my mum and dad again, even if I die. I'm terrified that I'll never be able to see—to see—"

And he was crying, not quietly but not loudly either, somewhere in between, and his sobs were caught in the back of his throat like sweet, hot toffee, sticky but you couldn't help but keep it coming. He was aware of Draco, rising up, cradling him, whispering something, but Harry shook his head, pushing out his last words.

"I'm terrified that I'll—I'll never be able to see _you_ again."

Draco looked at him, then, with those miraculously mercury eyes, and kissed him. This time, whether or not Tynan herself had come to the door, they would not have broken apart.

* * *

Ron was disconcerted. 

He'd been all over the castle, taking the longest routes to get to this part, the oldest part, probably the first part built of the whole castle. He wandered aimlessly, tracing a finger in the wall, marveling at the patterns he could make in the dust, feeling exactly as he had ages ago, when he and Harry had fought, or Hermione and he had fought, and he'd wandered here for solitude.

"I'm tired," he said out loud. There was no echo, and he remembered that he was alone. This time, there was no comforting presence to help him out. No Hermione would be waiting in the common room, chiding him gently and reprimanding him for worrying Harry, who was usually asleep on the couch, but would wake up as soon as his friend stepped in through the portrait hole.

"Do you even worry for me?" Ron asked, taking a sharp left, and the lifting aside the first tapestry. It led to another hallway, with what looked to be hundreds of doors. Ron counted twelve, looked at the space in between it and the next one, and then walked through the wall.

"Do you care," he whispered to the flickering candles lining the row, leaning to that one, distinguished and ornate door at the end of the hallway. "Harry," he said, rolling the name on his tongue. "Harry, I have to tell you something."

He had long said these words in this same hallway, wondering before how he could tell Harry about the room, and now wondering how to tell Harry about the girl. "There's this room, see?" he walked down the corridor, heading for the door.

"Well, actually, first there's a door. You stand in front of it, and—it's not even on the Marauder's Map, Harry, I had to research hard to find this password, even more than Hermione could ever, I used your invisibility cloak for the library, too, sorry—and you say _Vivicus_."

The door seemed to laugh at him, creaking open with that vague sound, sending a wave of nostalgia over him. It always did that. Before, he had laughed back.

"When you get inside," he mumbled, glancing around at the room, "It's always different. Not like the Room of Requirement, Harry, because you can't pick. If someone different comes in, then the room changes too. You've got to be careful not to wander too far or you might end up in the ocean or something."

Ron wandered far out.

"And I was inside this great, big stone fortress, one day. And there was this charm, in one of the books, the only book I picked out, and suddenly I was just so—scared, Harry. I read something, about disemboweling, and I only glanced at a word on the next page—Vivicus—before I panicked and ran, and ran, and I found the door and I ran back. I was late to Potions, remember? I had detention for a while…"

Ron slid down the other side of the door, staring at the dark, dark beach he was on. He could hear waves, crashing against the shore, and he suddenly wanted very, very badly to be with Harry and Hermione. He thought, that no matter what they had done, he would always forgive them. How could he live without them?

He didn't bother to wipe the tears, coming fast now, and he wondered exactly how many times he'd come back here, aching to find that _stupid_ tower again, praying that the book could explain to him what he'd done, how he'd done it, and _why_.

"I'm all alone," he said, and this time, there was a soft echo, winding up and down the beach with a twinge of longing. Ron's head fell to his hands, and he scrubbed furiously at his face, and then checked his watch.

9:25.

He started, getting up to go back and check for Malfoy, when the room began to swirl. Frightened, Ron gripped at the doorknob, gasping aloud in shock when he tumbled backwards as it swung open, all the while laughing at him.

"Weasley," a curt voice acknowledged, and Ron noted, with some surprise, that Draco seemed more mussed than could be possible. They were in a rainforest, now, and it was raining. Draco scowled irritably as he pulled the cowl of his cloak tight over his head. Ron didn't have a cloak, and after a moment, Draco rolled his eyes. He cast a spell, and Ron nodded briefly in thanks as a cloak was wrapped around him as well.

"What did you want to see me about, Malfoy?"

Draco silently approved the fact that Ron didn't bother asking why or how Draco knew, and got straight to the point. Draco followed his lead.

"I want to know what exactly has happened to Harry, through all his years, end to end to end."

Ron's eyes widened. "What the hell kind of request is that?"

"One that you would do well to accept," Draco sneered, and then instantly regretted it as Ron's face darkened.

"Malfoy, you don't know what you're talking about! Because of you, I had to explain this whole mess to Hermione, and now she's not speaking to me! Harry probably won't, either, when he hears what I've done! Malfoy, because of you, I'm fucking _alone_!"

Draco heard the anger in Ron's voice, the malevolent ideas forming in his head, but the Slytherin quashed them and kept his cool. "Listen to me, Weasley. I know you never wanted to be in this situation."

"What _situation_, Malfoy?" Ron screamed. "We're all probably going to die, and all you can do is stand around spilling people's worst secrets so that they can feel like _shit_ when they die!"

Draco punched him.

Ron tackled Draco savagely, deciding then and there that he would never protest against Draco being Harry's mate again. Draco knew everyone's weaknesses, and their strengths, which meant he knew exactly what it would take to loosen Ron up, to make the redhead _forget_, like he'd been trying to do for so long.

He socked Draco in the stomach, reveling in the blonde's gasped breath. "Malfoy, you insult my _family_," to the chest, "my _friends_," to the face, and a miss, "my _blood_, pure as it is," and Draco finally caught him in the stomach, and then both of them are lying on the ground, panting and muddy.

"Weasley, you idiot," Draco said, eyes narrowed. "This is going to take ages to clean!"

Ron ignored him, and sat up, blue eyes shining. "What took you so long to get here?" he muttered. Then he remembered what Draco had looked like before, and gagged. "Ew, forget it, I don't want to know."

Draco smirked as he stood up fluidly. "Weak stomach?" he teased, and Ron was so shocked, he let the Slytherin let him up. Everything suddenly turned serious.

"What are you planning to do with what I tell you?" Ron asked, closing his eyes briefly. Draco waited a moment, breathing in the sharp tang on the rain on fresh flowers, listening to the soft, pattering noise, and feeling soaked and cold and yet oddly warm because of the mud, all at the same time. He thought of Harry, asleep in the bed, and how Madame Pomfrey had been delighted to send Draco out. He thought of Ron, suddenly seeming so small and insignificant, and wondered briefly if he should have shouted out that one word, that word that had so totally ruined the redhead's life. But it wasn't ruined yet, he reminded himself. Everything could still be savaged.

"I plan to use it as blackmail so that I may seduce him, of course."

Okay, but he was allowed to have a little fun first.

Ron's eyes widened, but Draco snorted. "Honestly, Weasley. I'm going to pay him back for something, that's all."

"Pay him back for what?"

_Loving me_. "Saving my life. Water, Squid, me drowning. Ring any bells?"

"And you need his whole life story for it?" Ron asked suspiciously.

Draco eyed him, and mentally added another name to his list of people to un-paranoia-fy. Besides that, he would fix this whole Vivicus thing as well. Oh, yes, Draco Malfoy could be quite a nice person when he wanted to be.

Right now, he didn't want to.

"Weasley," he growled, "Can you drag your head out of your arse for a split second? Just tell me, and I'll—I'll—"

He was clearly struggling, and Ron allowed himself a tired grin. "You'll what?" he said, half-teasingly. Draco looked unhappy.

"Weasley, you do realize what you're doing?"

"Forcing you to admit you owe me something? Not at all."

"Well, yes, that too," Draco admitted grudgingly. "But we are acting like _friends_." The two immediately backed away from each other, and Ron's grin faded.

"Right. Well," he said, looking suddenly nostalgic. "I guess I'd better start from when I first met him."

"What about his childhood?"

Ron cast him a sharp glance. "And if I were to tell you he didn't have one?"

Draco was intrigued.

* * *

Night had fallen too quickly for Bellatrix, but she ignored the passing and moved towards her query. Hogwarts castle, as she had expected, had been warded. She didn't really want to believe that she could get through, but she fingered the flask of the remains of the advanced, adapted Polyjuice Potion in her robe pockets, and grinned and unnatural grin. 

"Where are you going?" she whispered to herself, advancing quickly through the wards. She felt a shock of exhilaration as they tore at her every fiber, and for one, blissful moment, she thought she was dead, or at least going to die.

And then she dropped down on the other side of the wards, hair burnt at the edges and robes with Slytherin school crest ribbed and tattered and bloodied. She didn't bother finding out why there was a liquid now obscuring the better part of her eyesight, and instead gripped the wand she had taken as well, healing herself roughly, crookedly. She couldn't do this mission in a lethargic daze.

"Can you move?" she asked herself. She could feel Tynan fading; her ties to Bellatrix were not as strong as her ties to Rabastan, and even that was weak. There was no way Bellatrix could communicate with Tynan.

The lady Black mused over the new weightless feeling, with no blonde looming over, probing at her last shreds of sanity. She pushed herself up, panting with the dizziness, and straightened up her posture, letting the crushed and ruined glasses slip to the ground.

"What is your name?" she said finally. Bellatrix trudged up to the entrance of the school, and almost immediately, it opened. Two able-bodied students, a Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor, it looked like, put their wands to her forehead.

"Name?" The Gryffindor barked.

Bellatrix thought of all the possible answers, and how she never had any choice but that one answer that always seemed to be wrong. If she told them who she really was, she could die, and be free from everything forever. But that same fear of death came back, putrid in its presence, and he remembered her husband, eyes cold, and Tynan wiping her mouth. Rodolphus had never expected it. She wondered if she would be expecting her death, when it came.

"Name and house?" The Gryffindor growled again, looking murderous. Bellatrix wanted to believe she could kill him when she was done.

"Slytherin house," she said finally. "And my name…"

"Is?" The Ravenclaw pressed. "Wait. You look familiar. Aren't you—?" But Bellatrix was already nodding, pressing a hand against her mouth, feigning shock and happiness to hide her sneer.

"Yes. It's me. Chloris Ernestine."

And she looked the part, too.

* * *

HAHAHAHAHAH! I have managed to beat the system, and screwed over homework doubly AND managed to type this whole damn thing in one day! Which means, of course, that I am likely to die at any moment. I told you I'd get it out before Christmas! HAH!

And to my anonyluffs. Thanks so much for revieiwing, and techincally, these aren't review replies, merely hezzers and luffs to my friendishulars unable to use your rather Nazi methods.

To Jools: Terribly sorry everyone at Disney is being boring. I hope this chapter gives you some cheer! Despite the lack of D/H loving, remember, I read Beautiful World by Cinnamon in FictionAlley shortly before writing, so I was too depressed to write out love scenes.

Me Myself And I : Thanks!

Vytiri: Hey, babesadullah, thou art part of my rat pack, from now on, then. Yes, I realize Ginny was there, but it's only because I accidentally typed the whole chapter with her instead of Carina and only realized it when I got to the end and went over and did it myself because Nikki-chan's sharp eye was off watching sharp--er, guys, so I missed that one. Maybe Ginny can posses peoples? And no, my name's not Leslie. Close, though. I think,. actually, that while my first name might be easy to guess my last name is impossible and you would need to know me to know it...er...maybe.

EDITED: Eh. Finally got a beta (Thanks, Nikki-chan) to look this over really quickly and I wasn't feeling up to actually retyping this, so I just changed the last part. It's meant to say CHLORIS, not CARLEIGH. 

Note to all, I'm updating next chap either today or tomorrow. I've got such a headache...I'll explain about the wait next chapter as well.

* * *


	19. Ha, He Laughs, But Not Really

Disclaimer: Sometimes, I hope to retire from fan fiction writing just so that I won't have to write another one of YOU again. But, I don't own it…

* * *

_I am the son  
And the heir  
Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar  
I am the son and heir  
Of nothing in particular  
You shut your mouth  
How can you say  
I go about things the wrong way ?  
I am Human and I need to be loved  
Just like everybody else does  
There's a club, if you'd like to go  
You could meet somebody who really loves you  
So you go, and you stand on your own  
And you leave on your own  
And you go home, and you cry  
And you want to die  
When you say it's gonna happen "now"  
Well, when exactly do you mean ?  
See I've already waited too long  
And all my hope is gone  
You shut your mouth  
How can you say  
I go about things the wrong way ?  
I am Human and I need to be loved  
Just like everybody else does_

_-How Soon Is Now- The Smiths

* * *

_

**ha, he laughs but not really**

**issalee

* * *

**

Ginny glanced up as Blaise entered the library; she was sitting in the empty room, quietly flipping through a random book. Her hair had fallen to cover her eyes, and she looked just as tired as she probably felt.

"Alright, Gin?" Blaise said softly. He flopped down into the seat across from her, resting his elbows on the table. "Don't worry about Carleigh, she's just upset about Chloris."

"I know," Ginny muttered.

"And Carina's not exactly in a great frame of mind. She's known Chloris since she was a kid, and she hasn't even gone off and grieved yet. She'll do it sooner or later. For now, I suppose she's probably going to take your advice."

"I know."

"You're going to sit inside this library and mope, but I suspect it has to do with something other than your spat with the three—two Cs."

"I know."

"I'm wildly, madly in love with you and I'm going to just as wildly, madly prove it to you."

"I—" Ginny stopped short, and raised her head. "Stop," she said dryly. "You're making me all hot and bothered."

Blaise grinned, but it faded when Ginny's eyes dropped again to her hands. "What's up?" he said quietly. When she didn't answer, he leaned back in his chair and toyed with a lock of his hair.

"You know, Ginny, I have two older brothers and a younger sister besides Carina." He glanced up, and from the stiff form Ginny had taken, he supposed she was listening. "My brothers, Erick and Ivan, are nineteen and twenty-seven. My younger sister is only thirteen, but she was so passionate about the whole Death Eater business it was dangerous for her to go to Hogwarts, so she stayed home. They were great favorites of the Dark Lord, which is probably why he didn't punish my family for me and Carina."

"Why are you telling me this?" Ginny interrupted.

There was a moment of silence, and then Blaise shrugged. "I don't know, really. I suppose what I'm trying to say is I know what it's like to know someone who's done bad things. Who's actually gone and made me miserable, or disappointed in them."

Ginny shot him a sharp glance; did he know about Ron? But Blaise didn't notice. He was tracing patterns in the dust on the table.

"Erick especially was my role model. He was closer to my own age, and almost exactly like Carina and me. He always thought there could have been a way to maybe be rid of the Dark Lord, but all that went down the drain when he went to his first meeting, and saw our parents being tortured for arriving late."

Ginny stood, and Blaise looked up out of shock. "Oh, Merlin, Ginny, I'm sorry," he began. There were tears forming at the corners of her eyes, and before he could say another word she had rounded the corner of the table and flung herself into his arms.

"I'm so, so sorry," she sniffed. "I've been so obsessed with all these little things going on that I never even thought about the kind of pain _you_ have to live with every single day!"

Bewildered, Blaise patted her back. "Er. Are you sure you're all right, Ginevra?"

She rested her head on his shoulder and hiccupped lightly. "No," she answered. "I'm never sure."

Blaise pulled back from her, taking in the red-rimmed eyes, hair falling all around her face, and grievous look. He cupped her chin in his hands, suddenly feeling surer about this than anything he'd ever done in his entire life.

"I wasn't joking about being in love, you know," he said softly. Before Ginny could answer, he kissed her lightly, a chaste one that just barely brushed her lips. He was about to pull back when Ginny wound her arms around his neck, and smiled against his lips. Tears were still trickling down her face but she felt as though a heavy weight was being lifted off of her.

"I think," she said quietly. "That I am _quite_ alright now."

* * *

Bellatrix trailed up the hallways, a sort of weightlessness about her. It had been too easy to convince the guards that she didn't need to be announced, she wanted to surprise everyone. The location of her supposed _sister_ had been just as easy to get from them. They'd overheard Luna asking Carleigh up to Ravenclaw Tower.

Bellatrix wondered vaguely what she would do with these girls once their part in the plan was completed. She could always dispose of them, but more often than not that turned out to be too messy for her.

"Chloris Ernestine," she muttered to herself. What a curious name. She knew their father of course; he was a quiet man, and sometimes she felt compelled to send awkward rumors and things that would fire him up his way. But this was normal.

A sneer overtook her face as she discreetly passed the spiraling steps leading down to the dungeons. A few secret passages away and she could probably find Rabastan. She hated him, the pretentious little twat.

"_Bella, Bella, of the alabaster skin. Sold her soul for a night with Satan."_

Shaking her head furiously in an attempt to erase the memory, Bellatrix climbed up the stairs towards Ravenclaw's common rooms. She wasn't thinking where to go; the only words in her head were the words written on the parchment.

_Find the girl, take her, take anyone with her. Then find Potter. I want him to be touched by my bonded, and through you, I shall take him._

She stopped in front of a door made entirely of sapphire. It was half-open; no on cared about security inside of the castle as of yet. Inside, Luna Lovegood was drowsing on an armchair, and Carleigh was sitting at the foot of it, sniffling quietly as Luna ran idle fingers through the younger girl's hair in an attempt to sooth her. A bottle of Firewhiskey was clutched tightly in the girl's hand.

"Carleigh," Bellatrix sang, instantly hating herself. "Carleigh! It's me, Chloris!" she all but skipped into the common room, the movements jerky and unlike her. It didn't matter, though, as in a second she was being smothered.

Bellatrix didn't hear a word of what Carleigh said. She was watching Luna Lovegood with half-lidded eyes. The Ravenclaw was sitting stiff in the chair, eyes wide and hand clenching her wand. Luna's eyes were averted from the whole scene, however, as though she couldn't bear to watch them.

"Carleigh," Bellatrix said finally, remembering her next part in the plot. "Come with me while I return to the others? Please?"

"No."

It was Luna who said it. She had stood up, and her usually impassive face looked furious. "You're not Chloris Ernestine. Whoever you are, _get out_."

Drunk and dazed, Carleigh turned to face Luna. "No, Loony, this is my sister. I thought she was dead but she wasn't—and she's here, it doesn't matter how or why, but she's here!"

"Shh," Bellatrix whispered, eyes never straying from Luna. "Shh, sister. She just does not want us to be happy. I will take care of her. _Soporifer insomnium_!"

Luna raised her wand, shouting "Stupefy!" at the sane time, but the spell hit her.

There had been brief moments in Luna's life where she had felt so helpless. Watching her mother die, feeling half-awake in the Department of Mysteries…she had never been good at forming and keeping friendships with new people. The ones she had were cherished, and these were high points in her life. But as soon as the spell hit her, all energy was sapped from her body. Darkness piled upon darkness crashed into her, pressing past her boundaries, opening the doors in her mind so that memories locked away pooled at her feet.

Her eyes flew wide, and she crumpled to the ground, mouth open. Bellatrix deflected the Stupefying spell with little effort. It hit the couch instead, sending it into sizzling flames. She pushed back her hair from her eyes and scowled darkly. This was taking too long.

"Time to go," Bellatrix whispered, turning to Carleigh, who was gaping. "_Imperius_," she said lightly. Carleigh's eyes glazed over, and she tilted her head to the side as she listened to her orders.

Bellatrix shooed her out of the room, eyes glittering before she turned to Luna, still lying on the ground. The Ravenclaw had been put into a deep sleep, one that was sure to be plague her with nightmares.

"Mother," Luna whimpered softly.

Bellatrix smiled, and whispered a charm over her. Luna's body gradually trickled away, disappearing from view in less than seconds. The lady Black hoisted Luna's still form over her shoulder, and, straining with the effort, deposited her on the windowsill and unlatched it. She was about to push the prone form outside when an idea took her; should anything fail, she wanted a backup.

Smirking widely, Bellatrix sat back, and waited.

* * *

Harry had been dreaming; deep, deep dreams with no meaning. He was more unconscious than sleeping, actually. He was falling in an eternity of black, swathing him in its morbidly comforting embrace.

"Harry."

He woke up with little trouble, and found Carleigh leaning over him, eyes shining in genuine worry. "Harry, please, I need your help. Something's wrong with Luna, and I can't find Draco anywhere…"

Harry rubbed the sleep away from his eyes, but as he slipped out of bed and threw on a robe, he was still groggy. "What's wrong with Luna?"

"Oh, Harry, I don't know! She's just collapsed and I'm so worried. I can't talk to Pomfrey because if it has anything to the Firewhiskey we were downing we'll be in such trouble."

"Luna doesn't normally drink," Harry said, befuddled for a moment as they walked out of the room. He forgot all about the supposed locks on the door, and that he wasn't supposed to leave. Somewhere, a voice in his mind wondered where Draco was. Lethargically, his brain sent out a question while he continued walking. "She keeps some of it but only for others. She likes butterbeer better."

"I persuaded her to take some! I feel so bad now," Carleigh sniffled. She cast a sideways glance at Harry as he wrapped an arm around her automatically.

"It'll be fine," he said, and then yawned widely. He was so drowsy that he didn't notice Carleigh's hand slipping around his waist to latch onto his wand, and slip it into her robes. They walked up the stairs to Ravenclaw Tower, and it was only as Harry pushed open the common room door that he thought of something odd.

"Carleigh. Why aren't _you_ acting drunk, then?"

She looked at him fully, and he noticed her eyes were misted over. In an almost mechanical movement he reached for his wand, and when he didn't find it, scooted back a few inches, but it was too late. The door slammed shut, and Harry turned to face Carleigh. She had been joined by—

"Chloris?" Harry said disbelievingly. "But—Draco says you're dead."

"Draco's wrong," the girl said dismissively. "Harry, come here, I need your help with Luna, she's by the window."

But Harry didn't move. "What the hell is going on here?" he said shakily. "Apparently you've risen from the dead, Carleigh looks like she's been hexed to oblivion and back again and _I don't even see Luna here!_"

Silence wound all around them like tendrils of mist, and a feeling of heavy unease entered Harry's body and mind. The girl who called herself Chloris Ernestine grinned suddenly, and Harry caught a subtle flickering in her skin tone and hair color.

"Very adept, Potter," she spat. "But too late. Too, too late." She didn't give him any more time to react as she strode over to him and grabbed his wrists. A shocking, burning pain spread up Harry's arms, and he tried to wrench himself away, but he suddenly fell in the midst of a spasm, whimpering.

Harry's sight began to diminish, and before he could stop himself, he screamed.

* * *

Draco and Ron walked out of the hallway, both unnaturally quiet and comfortable next to each other. The awkward need to fight was gone, and now all that remained was the question floating silently above their heads.

_Why was it always Harry?_

The most self-explanatory question in the world, Draco thought dryly. He turned to Ron, and offered his hand. "So, Weasley, this doesn't make us friends."

"But we're close."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. He hadn't missed the underlying tone, the missing half of that question that said _only because of Harry_.

"Yeah, we're close," he repeated. Ron took his hand, and shook it. They both turned to go their separate ways when Draco felt something brush at his mind.

It was a simple, are-you-there brush, and Draco was wondering whether or not to return it when there was another brush. This time, it was slightly frantic and held a tint of fear. Draco froze, mid-step. "Weasley," he said, eyes wide. "Where is everyone?"

Ron turned back to him and shrugged. "I dunno. I haven't seen anyone since you walked in and disrupted my whole life, Malfoy." He noticed the look on Draco's face and his own inexpressive features fell. "Wait, is this about Harry?"

Draco took only a minute to think before he was off, sprinting for the place he had last seen his mate. Ron wasn't far behind him.

* * *

Hermione was bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet, grinning widely despite the time of night. She, Pansy and Carina had been giddy that Theodore had finally woken up. Despite the fact that she didn't know Theo as well as any of them, his true happiness at seeing her offer her joy that he was all right was enough to make her happy and forget all about Ron.

For the moment, at least.

She had been laughing gaily for the first time in a long time, with _Slytherins_, of all people, and she suddenly fell into total agreement with Ginny. Said girl walked in at this exact moment, with Blaise trailing sheepishly behind her.

"Gin!" Carina cried, and threw her arms around the other girl. "I'm _so_ sorry, I should've said something! Carleigh can be headstrong…"

"Yeah, like you," Ginny teased, but she returned the hug. "It's okay."

"But I, darling sister, am deeply disappointed." Blaise said sternly, but the look didn't befit him, and Carina hugged him as well.

"Sorry, then, dearest brother," she mocked.

"Oh, shut up," he provided.

Hermione laughed then. They were acting nothing like the devious Slytherins she had heard of, and along with this revelation came another. _This_ was why Dumbledore was astounded that they couldn't get along with each other. They were just _children_, whose ideals and morals had been so deeply twisted it would mar them forever.

"Hermione!" Ginny said, jolting her from her reverie. "I was just looking for you." The unasked question hung between them. _Ron, what about Ron?_

"I'm fine," Hermione said firmly. "And I'm not upset."

Every Slytherin in the room raised an eyebrow (coined from their Prince, of course) at this, but before any questions could be asked, a pounding on the door forced them all to turn their attention away.

Hesitatingly, Blaise moved towards the door and opened it, wand at the ready, but he didn't need it. A pale-faced, out of breath Seamus Finnegan was looking frantically for someone. Dean was behind him, looking similarly shell-shocked. When his eyes locked with Hermione's, he let out a deep breath.

"Thank Merlin, Herm, we need your help!"

"What's going on?" she asked, already half out of her seat and casting a quelling glare at Ginny, who was already reaching for the door.

"Harry's missing," Seamus gasped. "Ron and Draco were running past us and Ron stopped to tell us Draco felt something was up. By the time we got there Draco was leaning on the door and he looked _terrible_. He said Harry was gone."

Hermione had clenched the chair so tightly it splintered under her fingers. She wondered vaguely why she wasn't used to this right now, but then quickly quashed that thought. "We're all going," she said, voice trembling, "to find Harry. _All of us_."

There were no protests.

* * *

Harry was falling through the darkness again, but this time, he was frightened. There was nothing more terrifying than realizing that you were _utterly alone_, and he had just had that moment.

"Hello, Harry."

Thin and translucent, like a sheet of silk thrown over him. It wrapped all around him, sheltering him from the darkness, from the fear of being alone. He forgot for a moment that there was a place beyond this, and focused on the voice, and _only_ the voice.

"You'll come to me when I call, won't you? Please say you will."

He didn't disappoint, never when people were kind. Harry forced a nod from himself, eyes drooping. There was a moment's hesitation, almost as though the voice hadn't been expecting an answer so quickly. In this moment everything started to unravel, and Harry looked up, a quick, unnatural move.

"Shh," the voice came back, soothing. "Shh, Harry, I am here."

He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of a breath slide across the nape of his neck, tickling him so that he smiled a little. When he opened his eyes, he was standing in front of the lithe form of Tynan Malfoy. Strangely, he didn't feel threatened, or even connect her to the voice.

"Hullo," he said.

She smiled back at him; a wicked, wicked smile that did not attempt to hide what she felt. Harry shivered. "Hi, Harry," she greeted back. "I've decided that you're going to come to me. On the stroke of the New Year, darling, I wanted it to be, or even on my birthday—Christmas. What a great double present!"

She smiled again, but Harry cringed and looked away. This didn't seem to bother her, as she kept on talking. "But I've decided that the best day would be on June fifth."

Harry's head jerked upwards, and Tynan looked positively thrilled. "Oh, yes, you know what day that is, don't you? Draco Malfoy's birthday. Your _mate's_ birthday."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, and a stinging pain grew behind his eyes, but Tynan waved her hand. "No worries, Harry. You'll forget this conversation until that day, and besides, you've already promised yourself to me."

The Gryffindor screamed again, in outrage at first, but then in pain as what could only be described as claws hooked themselves into his right arm. Tynan looked a little surprised.

"Marking you? Like Lord Voldything?" She seemed indignant. "I never wanted that!" She turned huffily, calling out a name, but Harry was past hearing anything she said now.

He kept screaming even as the claws relaxed, leaving only burning blood and something (he didn't want to look) imprinted on his arm, _in_ his arm, branding him the way Voldemort had. He wanted so badly to throw up, he began to heave dryly, and then stopped. He was in horrific pain, and in a moment of clarity, he seized upon his last hope.

_Oh God, Draco, help me!

* * *

_

Rabastan resisted the very much heavy urge to laugh as Tynan materialized in front of him, red-faced and with splatters of blood trickling down her fair hair and features.

"You said," she hissed, "that the spell would make him come back to me. I am _not_ one for repetition, and yet I see a Mark-The-Potter contest in the making!"

"Lucius hasn't marked him," Rabastan said idly. He wasn't really with Tynan at the moment. He was wondering whether Potter was all right, and when he realized he was thinking this, he automatically shut down.

"Sorry, what?" he said.

Tynan looked furious. "I was _saying_ that it doesn't matter what _Lucius_ does, it's _me_ that's working so damn hard! He'll be pissed off but it's in his own right, he has no idea how much he's softened up."

"You're mad," Rabastan said, more for show than anything. The lady Malfoy regarded him with contempt, and then she smiled thinly.

"A veiled jibe, easily seen through," she replied.

"Daggers from my eyes to your heart. Hah."

"You are an imbecilic, immature excuse for a person or Death Eater," Tynan said, and then paused. "Or maybe that's what you want people to think. You're smart, Rabastan. Figure out why I let you get away with so much."

"Because of my immense legerdemain and droll ripostes?" Rabastan fidgeted a little. Okay, so that had been a little _too_ much of his acting. "I mean, because of my great agility and witty comebacks?"

"You have spent too much time with yourself," she retorted, mocking him. But Rabastan knew he had calmed her down, and as she slipped down on his bench, she made a vague motion with her hand.

"I'm tired."

Her hair was still tied into its elaborate headpiece, tendrils escaping from a hair net exuding the fragrance of roses. She never wore any makeup, save for kohl around her eyes and at times, cheek rouge and lipstick. She wasn't wearing anything but the ever-present kohl at the moment, and Rabastan knew that if she removed it the eyes would be the same. Bright and alert. They were wide, wide eyes with the expanse of an ocean.

Rabastan knew exactly the moment he had first met Tynan, and decided to reminisce with her for a moment. "Lucius Malfoy's twenty-first birthday. You were fifteen."

"The first day I met you," she said quietly. "At his little get-together, when I had tired of speaking to Voldemort and was reclining in my room. You walked in with three girls dripping from your arms."

Rabastan smiled fondly. "Ah, yes, the women do love me."

"You were blond then."

"Well, yes."

"And younger."

He frowned. "Yes."

"And cuter."

"Shut up or I shan't say anymore," he snapped. Shockingly, Tynan did so. Rabastan launched into the telling with new fervor. "I sent them all on their way whilst I inquired about you. When I learned that you were Lucius's younger brother, I immediately grew fond of you."

"Because you wanted Narcissa."

"Because she wanted me," he corrected.

"You didn't want her back?"

He didn't answer, so Tynan resumed for him. "You two were desperately in love, weren't you? But she was already married to Lucius. Arranged, but that was to be expected from people of high-ranking families. So you let her live her life. You cared for her so much you would have done anything. You went mad, sometimes, thinking about how Lucius had her and you didn't. She noticed that you had started the insanity quite a while ago, but she loved you nonetheless."

"Shut up," Rabastan murmured.

"I won't," Tynan said, holding her chin high. "Narcissa was afraid. Even more so when she heard the Dark Lord plotting and knew that soon you were to go on a mission and that she was supposed to start swelling with child or forfeit her life. So she came to you, and asked you for your help. She asked you to take the child. What did you say?"

"No." Numbly, and then it was said with bitter remorse. "I said _no_. To _her_."

"She was crushed, as were here petty feelings for you. You told me, of course, but only when you were drunk and I was as well. I found it astonishing that you, such a playboy, would never touch me, even smashed to hell and back. Odd, don't you think so?"

"I went to Azkaban," Rabastan snarled, ignoring her prodding. "I only managed to get out _once_. _Once_, when our Lord promised me freedom. A Dementor smuggled me out for a weekend, and I saw her, and Lucius, and their _son_. Draco Malfoy. He was a product of what could not be called love, nor lust, nor duty. Lucius did it simply because there was nothing to be had—"

"That's where you're wrong," Tynan countered. "Lucius loved her as well. At least, he did when he married her, and when Draco was conceived; he withdrew from Narcissa and loved Draco. For a long time, it was the only thing he could make sense of. Wasn't he _supposed_ to love this child? But then you came traipsing along, bringing old memories to the surface. Narcissa forgot herself, forgot what you said, and thought highly of you, but she would never love you again, and _you knew it_."

Rabastan suddenly felt drained of all energy. He had always been a shameless flirt, especially with Tynan, but never had he been so sapped of his abilities as of now. It wasn't so disconcerting that she was dredging up old things; he'd finally gotten over what he had titled The Crush That Crushed Me in a hilariously drunk mood, and he didn't even mind that he couldn't manage to hate Draco or anyone who associated with him. He hated Lucius for the reasons every else hated him for, and he hated Tynan for the same reasons as well.

He was upset because she was picking at it, attempting to find answers to her own questions as well as his. How does one tell another about such personal things? He was saved from having to explain anything when Tynan frowned.

"I think Lucius is calling me back." She began to fade, and placed one small hand on Rabastan's brow. "Mayhaps I can convince him to count me out of his devious—and rather idiotic—plot to get you out."

Rabastan rolled his eyes as she disappeared. Trust _her_ to take what could have been a good moment and totally twist it.

* * *

Ginny's breath hitched as she all but flew up the steps to Ravenclaw's common rooms, and the crowd of people behind her. Even Theodore had gotten out of bed, and by the time they'd scoured the lower Hogwarts and Gryffindor Tower it became apparent that Harry wasn't there, they'd gotten frantic.

"Who're you looking for?" A Ravenclaw had said, approaching them as they exited the Great Hall. He was identifiable from his blue badge, still worn over his robes. There was a pause; no one really wanted to say.

"Carleigh Ernestine?" Ginny ventured.

"Oh," the boy said, visibly brightening. "Tell her I said congrats as well, okay?"

"What do you mean, congrats?" Carina sidled up to him. "Was there something she should have been told about?"

The boy barely refrained from wrapping an arm around her waist and leading her off when Blaise growled at him. "Er, well, her sister came in alive and we thought she'd be excited to find out."

Draco, who had been too anxious to dwell on what everyone had been discussing before, heard this and stopped. "What? Say that again!"

"Her sister—came in—alive," the boy repeated. "Me and Mitch were patrolling outside the front doors—Neville assigned us." His chest swelled with pride but the looks shot at him made him go faster. "And Chloris walked in from the general direction of the forest so we just let her in."

"She's dead!" Draco sputtered angrily. "Tell me, how can she be alive? I checked her pulse myself! I—" Draco stopped short, eyes narrowed. "She had no life aura. It was diminished completely."

"Wuzzat?"

"Where did you send her to?" Pansy snapped, alarming the boy greatly.

"Er, er, to her sister, in the Ravenclaw commons."

They were gone before he could register it.

Now as Ginny stood aimlessly before the locked common room door, she realized her heart was attempting to pound a hole through her chest.

"Who knows the password?" Ron said finally. There was a long, _long_ pause, before Draco finally spoke up, mouth dry. He had to swallow twice before he could speak again.

"I think—I think Luna told me it once. She wasn't even really paying attention, it was—today, actually," he said, sounding surprised. "This morning, when we were walking down towards the lake."

"Well, what is it?" Hermione cried, frustrated.

"Maybe I'd remember if you stopped breathing down my neck, Granger, I'm sort of at a loss here!" he ran a hand through his hair and took a ragged breath. "I can't—I can't function," he said aimlessly, looking very much like a lost boy. He bit his lip and berated himself for acting like such an idiot.

"Love is weird," whispered Seamus to Dean.

"Yeah," his friend whispered back. "It's gotta be to make Malfoy act like that about his worst enemy."

Everyone was startled when Draco suddenly reeled back. "Um…I heard him?" he said, by way of explanation. "He's—in pain." A decisive look took over his face, and then Hermione suddenly threw up her hands.

"Rack your brains, Malfoy! What kind of idiot can't even remember a common room's password? You've snuck in enough times, I suppose." Her voice sounded malevolent and cold, as one might have expected from a Slytherin, not her, Hermione Granger, Gryffindor know-it-all and renowned peacemaker.

The Slytherins were momentarily shocked before Theo lifted an uncertain hand. "Er…Granger, it's not his fault you know, you shouldn't be so harsh on him—"

"Shut up," she hissed. "It's his fault and he bloody well knows it. Running off to leave Harry alone when he _knows_ there's a war going on! For Merlin's sake, even his _aunts_ are in the enemy's inner circle—how do we know he's not plotting against us as well?"

"Hermione, you're being unreasonable—!" Ginny began, but Ron stopped her. He had a peculiar expression on his face as he leaned down to whisper to his younger sister.

"Now you get to see her in action; she's brilliant!"

Draco raised his head, and Hermione winced a little as she realized his eyes had taken on an unnaturally blue hue that reminded her of Tynan. They were cold, and merciless, and his voice was exactly the same.

"Where do you get off telling me, Granger, Potter's _mate_, that I am betraying him? Haven't the past few days done _anything_? And here I thought you were an accepting little Gryff, never wanting to stir up any trouble…"

"Oh, shut it, Malfoy," Hermione growled. "You might love him, but nothing in that little book of yours claims you have to change other loyalties. Your personality still bears a passing resemblance to that of a wild dog, and I feel the need to inform you that the only good thing about you is that you'd make a good _boy toy_. Probably the only reason Harry's stayed with you for so long…"

Hermione uttered a small noise of surprise as she found herself being pushed up against the wall. Literal sparks were flying between her and Draco, and flecks of dark green were visible in his eyes. She didn't need to look to know his wings were flapping angrily behind him, keeping everyone at bay, and she suddenly wished she hadn't been so fervent with her idea.

"I can't believe you," he said, voice frighteningly low and dangerous. "You vile, loathsome Mudblood. I would _so_ enjoy tearing out your precious brain and picking it to bits…"

But it was an empty threat, and Hermione knew it, so she kept her goading. "Please, Malfoy, you're a pawn on Harry's chessboard. He can't even whisper a bad word about you all the way across the world without you flying into headboards and whatnot." She leaned in closer, defiantly closing the space between them. "Face it; you're weak, you've lost your standing, and your precious daddy's not going to save you. You've got _nothing_, nothing but your stupid Pureblood world."

Color exploded in front of her eyes, and she felt light and airy for a moment. Somebody screamed and it took her a moment to register the sound of her own voice, and when she opened her eyes she expected to find herself floating on a cloud of some sort with wings and a harp tucked under her arms.

Instead, she found herself looking into a pair of very worried, warm blue eyes. Ron held out a hand and she took it, shaking a little. Blaise, Seamus and Dean were restraining Draco, who looked furious.

"Are you okay?" Ron asked her.

Hermione ignored him, and for a moment he thought she was still mad at him but then she pointed behind the group. "There," she said, a note of faint triumph in her voice. "You've opened the door, Draco."

The blonde gaped at her, and then at the crushed bits of sapphire that were still falling to the ground. They were still making soft tinkling noises when understanding dawned on him, and he stopped his struggles.

"Smooth, Granger," he told her, and then pushed away from those holding him to peer inside of the common room.

The couches and armchairs had been completely decimated, burned to a scorch as though they had all spontaneously combusted. Even the fireplace had dark marks on it, and the windows had all been flung wide open. A single, clear bottle of Ogden's Best Firewhiskey rolled to a stop just as the last person (Dean) stepped inside of the room.

There was no sign of human life in the room, and suddenly feeling as though a terrible weight had been dropped into the pit of his stomach, Draco walked slowly over to the largest window. It was clear of any damage, and looked almost serene amongst the chaos. He leaned over to look out but stopped himself. There was a slip of parchment with hastily scribbled words on it, and dreading what it said, he picked it up and handed it to the nearest person.

Blaise took the paper gingerly, opened it, and read its contents in a shaky voice.

_**She Is With Us.**_

_**-Bellatrix Black**_

"She signed it," he finished. "Why in hell would she sign it?"

"So we knew she did it," Pansy said softly. "She likes to operate that way, and besides, she has no reason to fear us if she's run off. Look outside, someone, so we can find out which 'she' she meant."

Draco was already leaning out of the window, and he blinked rapidly to stop himself crying as he peered down. What he saw nearly stopped his heart.

"Blaise, my feet," he croaked. When his friend hesitated, the blonde snapped. "My _feet_, Blaise, grab them! There's someone hanging onto the ledge!"

Draco wasted no time in scrambling onto the ridge, and lowering the front half of his body downwards. He only just remembered to tuck his wings back into his body as he slid down, aiming for the person whose body was sprawled on a protruding statue of a gargoyle, arms flung around the stone figure's back so as to keep safe. They had been covered with a black cloak, which he brushed briefly with his fingers before flinging it back.

"Harry," he sighed in relief. The Gryffindor's eyes were shut, and soot marked his whole body. Draco's eyes narrowed as he noticed the blood staining his mate's right arm. Snarling, Draco reached out to grab the prone body, eyes glittering with rage. Whoever had messed with _his_ mate would be very sorry, very soon.

* * *

At the very beginning of the Forbidden Forest's boundaries, Bellatrix Black watched her nephew haul the body of her nemesis into an open window. But Bellatrix was past caring about Harry Potter. From what she had gathered, as soon as he had agreed to Tynan's stupid plot he was signing his own death wish.

The body in her arms shifted, and she glanced down at the white-blonde hair that was falling in tendrils across the eyes of her charge.

"What a shame," Bellatrix whispered to the still-sleeping Luna, "that your friend had to die. What a pity they won't ever find her corpse. What a terrible, terrible thing it was to have died that way; first to be burned so badly and then dropped out of a high, tall tower."

Smirking, Bellatrix waved Chloris Ernestine's stolen wand over the dead girl's now-dead twin, Transfiguring the remains into a pebble.

" 'We are all pebbles in the stream of life'," Bellatrix quoted. She threw the pebble as far as she could, and felt a tingle of satisfaction run down her spine as she heard it clatter to a stop in the Forest. She stepped back, shifting the quiet girl in her arms for more comfort.

"Shh," she cooed. "Shh, darling. We're nearly there. You're going to have a grand time with me, I promise you, little Luna."

Luna squeezed her eyes shut tighter, and tried to fight away the malicious creatures in her dreams; some of which were more real for her than she thought.

* * *

So. 

I suppose I should explain all about how as soon as I got Dance Dance Revolution: Ultramix 3 for X-Box I spent a whole day playing it. I suppose I should explain how I ended up cleaning my house and the backyard and getting a minor cold that still made me feel like crap. I suppose I should tell about how it took me seven tries to upload this damn chapter, and how it took me (YES, I TIMED IT) exactly forty-six hours all together to type this chapter, in little bits in pieces. I suppose now I should tell you it's 13 pages long on Word and I still feel sleepy as a sleepy thing.

But, nay, I shall refrain from saying anything, because I have a Vanilla Bean Coolata in my hands and despite the cool weather, that in itself is enough to sooth me. Plus, I have become enamored with my new Demon Diary manga and my knee socks (don't ask). Laaaaaaaaaa. Now all I need is the Hush Sound - So Sudden, and I shall begin updating every day. Too bad I start school again in anothet two days. :( Nyah.

To my anonyluffs:

**bananagirl:** Hah. Submissive Draco. Hah. Well, he is, but not really...sexually wise? Er...this is awkward...

**Jen: **Well, then, muchos muchos grazis for helping Jools to find her way to this fic. 

**Jools:** Hezzs, welcome back! And I wouldn't say Narcissa is necessarily 'dead'. Go back and read the chap when Bella and Lucy and Ty are all talking...heh...

**RaineMarker16:** Eh, no prob, I wrote the whole quotes by memory and some I was laughing over with friends. I'll fix it as soon as I get a chance, thanks for telling me!

* * *


	20. We Can Laugh About This Later

Disclaimer: Not mine, nyet.**

* * *

**

_We're only liars, but we're the best  
We're only good, for the latest trends  
We're only good cause you can have all those famous friends  
Besides, we've got such good fashion sense. _****

****-Our Lawyer Made Us Change the Name of This Song...-Fall Out Boy

* * *

**we can laugh about this later**

**issalee

* * *

**

**_Three Days Later_**

_Harry's quieted, because that's what he's supposed to do._

Nothing much interested him anymore, except for those crimson circles swirling around his arm, marking him as that of another person's. Draco growled when he first saw them, and he still growls.

"Crazy dream," he told Hermione, when she asked him what he thought it was. "It's some crazy dream that I want to wake up in the middle of."

_No one listens to him, and that's worse than anything._

The Aurors had arrived yesterday, but it was too late. Tynan and all her forces had disappeared into the night, leaving behind bloody and bruised bodies, and a battered Forest to contend with. The bodies were spirited away, to families and friends, as well as students.

Hermione talks about him.

"_You're his mate, do something! He won't talk to us, and Ron and I have to leave! Ginny too! He'll have no one left, soon!"_

"_I can't. I can't I can't I can't."_

"_You aren't leaving?"_

"_No. But everyone else is. I've got Blaise and Carina, but everyone else has been called back. The Ernestines are dead. The Houses have disbanded. The only ones staying are the ones too terrified to move."_

"_Then _move _damn it!"_

Harry slid down into his covers, and ignored Tonks when she walked in, electric blue hair and shocking blue eyes, "Wotcher Harry" and all.

_Harry wants to die.

* * *

_

Hogwarts had emptied out by the week before Christmas. There were so few students that it didn't even really matter what went on. Classes had, of course, been canceled.

Dumbledore was, for once, at a loss. He didn't say anything when he visited Harry; only watched sadly as the boy he had come to love like a son stared aimlessly at the circles on his arm, reminiscing about a voice he couldn't understand. The Headmaster had to leave for days, someone told him, because he had to quell the rumors the Daily Prophet had been printing and make sure the Aurors helped him strengthen the wards.

Harry wasn't surprised to realize he didn't care. He didn't care about anyone, not until he saw Draco again for the first time in days.

They Slytherin had paled visibly, and Harry was furious with himself.

_You are his life's blood. You are what keeps him alive._

But let's forget, he told himself. Let's forget.

* * *

On Saturday, Tonks came by again, but she didn't say a word before Madame Pomfrey had hurried in and demanded that Harry dress himself. Too tired to object, the Gryffindor did so, ignoring Pomfrey's exasperated explanation that some exercise would do him good.

Tonks took him to Hogsmeade, chatting all the way as though it was just another day, except that Harry never answered any questions directed at him or subtle intrusions to his inner sanctum.

"Here, Harry," she said lightly, stopping in front of a large building. "I've got to get something here for a friend, you want to look around?" She didn't wait, knowing he wouldn't answer, before drawing him inside.

It was an antique shop, but jewelry was sold in copious amounts as well. Harry absently slid his hands in his pockets, and was surprised to feel a money pouch in one. He suspected Madame Pomfrey had slipped it in, but ignored the money; he'd already picked out presents for his friends, way before the December, and had entrusted Hedwig with them. She would know when to take them to them.

So lost in his thoughts was he that he nearly missed it, but a glitter caught in the corner of his eyes and he turned. Harry was immediately rooted to the ground.

Inside of a glass case was a ring. It was made up of the same interlocking circles that were on Harry's wrist, but these had green and white diamonds glittering along the silver edges. The circles alternated in silver and gold, making the ring a true work of art.

Harry was mesmerized; while the circles on his arm made him feel sick, this was oddly comforting. There was a label underneath the case, and he leaned in to better read it.

Ringlink 

**_Made by some of the most powerful alchemists, this ring links the wearer to the giver; by love or affection. Only if their bond is pure can the wearer wear the ring, but sufficient amounts of Dark Magic used during the making can have an alternate effect. However, the maker of the ring must then die, in order to complete the process. _**

_**200,000 ζ**_

"What're you looking at, Harry?" Tonks appeared with little warning, and her eyes widened as she eyed the ring. "Two hundred thousand Galleons? I'd love to be on the receiving end of _that_ present. You've got to love someone a lot to spend that much money on them."

Harry looked at her, and then back at the ring. His fingers absently brushed against the leathery skin of the pouch in his pocket; he always carried around all the money he'd removed from his bank account earlier on that summer. He usually brought more than enough, if only so that he could treat his friends. Madame Pomfrey wouldn't have opened his pouch and checked, would she?

"Sir?" A wizened old man, reminding Harry faintly of Ollivander, looked curiously at him. "Will you be taking that, sir? We can even put it on a chain for you, free of charge, with an engraving on either the ring of chain. The engraving will cost a little bit extra, and the ring should come later. You can have a set date, if you like."

Harry looked at the ring again, glinting so innocently in the light. He moved to shake his head, and then stopped.

_You will come to me, won't you, Harry?_

Green eyes locked with electric blue.

Harry fingered the pouch again.

* * *

"Hey."

Harry blinked, turning his head slightly to stare. Draco sat in the chair as though he owned it, eyes narrowed. His skin was pale, reflecting in the moonlight as though it was about to fade away. His hair, long and mussed more than usual, hung in limp locks. Even his teeth, so predatory in their vampiric likeness, seemed to be dulled.

"Come here," Harry said, and he had to repeat it because he hadn't spoken in so long. He'd go down, but he couldn't take anyone with him.

Draco followed his order, watching him warily, and walked over to the bed. He locked eyes with Harry, and sat gingerly on the edge, looking for all the world as though he was approaching a dangerous animal.

"Make me forget, please," Harry said, words spilling from his mouth before he could stop them.

"I can't."

What he told Hermione.

What he told Dumbledore.

What he can't—_shouldn't_ tell Harry.

"You can," he whispered back, cupping Draco's chin in his hands. "You can, and you will, and you'll forget too. Because I need to live, and you need to live."

"You said you were afraid of forgetting," Draco reminded him.

"Some things are meant to be forgotten," Harry argued feebly. "Some things don't have to be remembered."

"Yes, they do." There is a frighteningly sharp atmosphere around Draco, and Harry feels the tension as light fingers skim his neck. "I have to remember what my father and Voldemort were going to do to me, and what _you've_ done to me. If I didn't, do you think I'd be able to do this?"

He leaned over, eyes still open, and laid a gentle kiss on Harry's forehead, exactly where the scar was. Exactly where his memories hid.

Harry couldn't suppress the gasp that left his lips, nor the trickles of liquid that left his eyes. He grasped at Draco's shoulders; so sure about this one thing that it nearly killed him.

"Please," he whimpered, lost. His eyes were closed.

Draco lowered his head, holding Harry as though he were a toy, and when he sunk his teeth into pale skin, walls crumbled.

Harry cried.

* * *

Blaise walked into the Hospital Wing, awkwardly holding onto the pile of presents he had tucked under his arms. Behind him, Carina snapped lightly at his every move.

"Idiot, there's a doorframe; do you want to kill yourself? Don't drop that, Ginny told me she's put some very fragile things into that!"

"Eh."

"Blaise, she is your _girlfriend_, have some respect."

* * *

Draco awoke quickly, arms and legs still tangled around Harry's in an embrace that was clearly more intimate than anything. Groggily, he remembered what it was that had awoken him, and it comes again.

"Damn it, she is _not_ my girlfriend!"

"Please, spare me your lies, big brother. Just because she's asked you to keep quiet a little while longer doesn't mean anything."

"What? You say that like it's a bad thing! Her family will _hate_ me!"

"Her mother will _want_ you."

Silence.

"Yes, I suppose I am pretty good-looking."

Draco snorted into the sheets, and reluctantly shifted so that he could sit up. Harry's head fell into his lap, and the Gryffindor slept on, unaware as the two Slytherins trooped in.

"How'd you know I'd be here?" Draco asked, lifting an eyebrow at the amount of presents dumped unceremoniously onto the bed.

Blaise shrugged, and instead of answering shoved a present into Draco's arms. "Merry Christmas, D!"

"Don't call me D."

"Yessir!"

Scowling, Draco unwrapped the present with a cold finality. "From Pansy," he muttered, although he didn't need to. He drew out a brilliantly colored slip of parchment, not purple but not green but not blue either, dark and shadowy and glorious. A quill was wrapped into its center, with feathers of the same color. A note tumbled out, written on plain parchment, and Draco picked it up with a sort of cautious reverence.

_**Draco,**_

_**Be careful with this. It's Parchment from Ilion; write anyone's name on it and you can tell where they are, their health, and who's in the immediate vicinity with them (about twenty yards away). **_

_**Only powerful magic can keep a person's location from appearing. I'm not sure if it'll work with your mate, since he's pretty strong himself, but try anyway. Maybe only when he's not using magic.**_

_**All my love to you and the Zabinis, **_

_**Pansy**_

_**P.S. I don't know if I'll be able to come back. Mum wants me to; she's frightened about what may happen, and Dad as well. They don't know if Voldemort will keep them when he's done. Hope for me.**_

"Brilliant," Draco breathed, eyeing the parchment. "Brilliant, Pansy, brilliant. I really do hope she can get back."

"Shut up," Blaise said morosely. "And all me and Carina got you was a nice, new racing broom."

Draco eyed him sharply. Blaise knew he couldn't use brooms; not with the threat of his wings exploding out behind him and over-balancing him. Carina smacked her brother on the back and smiled sweetly at Draco.

"It's been tuned to your magical abilities. One of the projects Erick was working on before he was—recruited." A sad look flitted across her face before she smiled again. "So if your wings should flutter out like some mad thing, then it'll merely balance along with the new weight! Plus, it doubles as a very much elongated wand, because the bristles dissipate into the broom and you can whack people over the head with it!"

Draco eyed the long, slim package he had been unwrapping as Carina was speaking. It was, indeed, a beauty. He ran his fingers over it, felt the magic thrumming under the wood; a genuine grin made its way across his face.

"Thanks," he said, meaning it.

"Open Theo's!" Blaise said excitedly. While he was one for tender moments, he loved opening presents more, and since all his were done away with watching Draco opening his was the next best thing.

The next few presents were the norm; books that Draco found himself anxious to read, treats from various distant teachers and even a few friends he knew from other places.

"No present from him?" Blaise asked, jerking his head to Harry.

"When would he have time to buy it?" Draco said, absently stroking his fingers through Harry's hair. The Gryffindor's eyes fluttered, but he slept on. "Lummox," Draco said, almost affectionately.

"Ew," Carina said.

"Do you have his presents?' Draco asked Blaise, ignoring her.

"Yeah," Blaise said, pointing to the pile, but then he plucked up three brightly wrapped packages. "But you've still got three left. One from Ginny and Hermione, and even one from Weasley."

"Your brother-in-law-to-be."

"Carina. _Shut_. _Up._"

Draco ignored the bickering and fingered Ron's present thoughtfully. He could understand Hermione, who was forgiving in the very sense of the word, second only to Harry, but Ron?

He removed the cheery red and blue (it clashed, he thought languidly) paper, and stared at the foreign object on his palm, lying in the crinkled folds of the paper.

Blaise whistled. "Nice, Draco, very nice."

"What?" The blonde crinkled his nose. "It's a—er—"

"Time Jar-thingy," Blaise said, all the object's glory lost with his words. He ignored Draco's bitter glared and poked at the thing. Immediately, the jar flew upright, standing utterly still on Draco's hand. A thin layer of dirt was on the bottom, and, as they watched, a seed fell into it, and crackling noises ensued.

A thin, green stem spiraled upwards, ending in a large, purple bloom at the end that shimmered for all of five seconds before withering, fading, and crumpling into itself. The stem fell, and the bud did as well, leaving only one seed to fall back.

Draco narrowed his eyes as he remembered talking to Ron weeks earlier, when he had asked the redhead about Harry's past.

"_You stuck a Death Eater's head into a jar that made him go through life several times over?" Draco stared._

_Ron shrugged. "Maybe I didn't _stick _his head in exactly, but it got in there. Later on, the Department didn't want the jar because they said it had been contaminated. So I kept it. I don't know why, I don't really want it."_

"_I would," Draco said wistfully. Time was something he had always wished he could mess with, even just a little. Even within bounds._

_Ron looked at him, appraising him, and then he shrugged. "Anyways, after that…"_

"Hermione and Ginny got you a really cool, thick book, Draco." Blaise hoisted the volume towards his friend with some difficulty.

"You opened it!"

"You took too long reminiscing about your secret love's little Jar-thingy. It's called _Ancient Runes Of The Dark Ages_."

"Honestly?" Draco craned his neck to look at the pages without disturbing Harry, who was now making little movements as he slowly awoke. "I've been wanting that for _years_. Where in Merlin's name did they find it?"

"Apparently, Hermione found it ages ago in the Weasley's home, and Mum Weasley let her take it because no one seemed to care. Ginny told her you wanted it when they were talking, and since Hermione had finished it already, she agreed," Carina informed him.

"So it's a hand-me-down? Ew," Draco said, but he was already reaching out to touch the pages. Slim fingers on his arms stopped him.

"Draco?" Harry's voice was thick with sleep as he struggled to sit up. "'Lo, Blaise, Carina," he muttered absently.

"Merry Christmas!" Blaise crowed, exuberant. "Here's your prezzies, Harry!"

The Gryffindor's eyes widened as he remembered the day, and a soft, almost goofy smile graced his face. "Christmas?"

"Yes, as in the holiday where people usually exchange presents and goodwill and cheer and all that other stuff that makes me want to gag," Draco said, grimacing, but it fell off as he saw the genuine delight on Harry's face.

The Gryffindor dove into his presents with the same relish that Blaise usually lavished upon his own presents.

By the time he had finished and was munching contentedly on Honeydukes chocolate from Remus, seated in Draco's lap, the bed was a mess of wrapping paper.

"You got presents from the teachers," Blaise said solemnly, looking at the chocolates that lay strewn in Harry's lap from McGonagall. Hagrid had sent up a cake, which Harry had discreetly transfigured into a rock and thrown under his bed. looking at the chocolates that lay strewn in Harry's lap from McGonagall. Hagrid had sent up a cake, which Harry had discreetly transfigured into a rock and thrown under his bed. Tonks had given him the various presents from the Weasleys; a nice sweater in sensible red, a new practice Snitch that was more advanced from Ron and Ginny, a basket load of goods from the twin's shop, and Dark Arts books from Charlie, Remus and Bill.

Hermione had, surprisingly, sent him a large book filled with all the MVP's of Quidditch, which had no educational value whatsoever. Harry was delighted with it, but it hit him suddenly as to how much Hermione could be worried if she would send a present like that. Along with Remus' cache of photos (more of Sirius, this time) he was starting to wonder if people had thought he'd been totally brain-dead.

A present from Dumbledore, though, was oddly absent.

"Hey," Draco said, startling him. "Would you guys mind throwing this out and getting us some breakfast? Just tell a house-elf, I know you might want to eat in the Great Hall with the few left."

Blaise gave him a knowing look, which was promptly wiped off his face as Carina dragged him off the bed.

"Of course!" She chirped, and with a wave of her wand, the paper had disappeared. "And no worries, little boys, I shall keep idiot brother away from you all."

"Why is she so happy?" Harry whispered up to Draco.

The blond shrugged. "I have the feeling she's found a new boy toy she's anxious to get to. Besides, she's got a lot on her mind; better to shove it out and be happy this one day."

Blaise and Carina were already on their way out, last goodbyes said, so they missed the darkening of Harry's eyes as he remembered what had put him back into the Hospital Wing. His eyes automatically traveled to the circles on his arm, but then he tore away his gaze. With a quick, jerky movement, he pulled the red sweater Mrs. Weasley had knitted him over his head, hissing a little as cool skin that was still a little raw touched the scratchy wool.

"Okay?" Draco said.

Harry shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. He looked back down at his lap, and the various presents strewn there. A sudden urge to curl up and cry hit him, and he had to stuff a chocolate piece in his mouth to stop himself. Scattered pictures of Remus, Sirius and James lay in a pile. Photos of Lily were placed almost reverently alone, and she blinked moodily up at him from the only visible photo. Her hair was purple.

"Merry Christmas."

Harry glanced up in surprise, and found that Draco was holding a box, almost shyly, towards him. It was a simple, gift-wrapped box, but there were no wizarding designs on it that moved or tinkled or caroled.

"I—" Harry began, but then stopped himself and swallowed. "Thanks."

He picked the present lightly from Draco's hand, and lifted the lid slowly, eyes closed. This moment, he decided, in his newly instated darkness, was one that he was going to remember.

There was last night to remember too, and all those lonely nights in the Hospital. Ron and Hermione visited, but never together, and he that was to be remembered as well. Carina didn't visit until nearly three days ago, and all his other friends treaded as though they were on thin ice around him. And he couldn't forget Luna, who had been taken.

"Open it."

Harry didn't need to open his eyes to see Draco had pushed the lid aside. He fingered the object inside the box slowly, touching the smooth metal, smooth stone, and wondered about the length of chain.

"A necklace?" he said, opening his eyes. It was, a slim silver chain ending in an emerald, encased in gold. Harry glared at the gem, experimentally, and grinned lightly when he saw his reflection glaring back. A moody swirl of black was swirling inside, and he smiled even more widely as he saw it fade, until the emerald felt warm in his hand and was a glowing, forest green instead.

"A mood necklace?" he said, chuckling. "Now I've seen everything."

"More than that," Draco said, shifting so that he could take the necklace from Harry's hands and wrap it around his mate's neck. "It calms you. Should you ever be upset, angry, or anything like that, it feeds you the feelings you had during a happy moment. A moment when you were wearing it, of course."

"Like this one."

Gray eyes searched his own, before Draco smiled a little. "Yeah. Like this one."

Harry smiled, and leaned back. Through half-lidded eyes, he fingered the pendant. "So this means I should've gotten you a present."

"No," Draco said, "You shouldn't have. You were sick."

A tapping noise at the window interrupted them both. They stared for a moment, before Draco slid out of the bed and padded silently across the room to the glass. He opened it, and warily eyed the owl that circled the air around him before landing on his shoulder. A package wrapped in brown paper was dangling from its leg, and it held a note in its beak.

"What's it say?" Harry asked as he shuffled over, yawning.

"To Master Draco Malfoy," the Slytherin read, glancing over at Harry suspiciously. "From Master Harry Potter."

Harry suddenly developed a mild obsession with the owl's feathers.

Draco raised an eyebrow, but then decided to dismiss the odd behavior and opened the present with a nostalgic sense of excitement.

Harry fingered a lock of his hair irritably; he couldn't see over Draco's shoulder, and even if he could, he was afraid of what he might see. Would Draco mind? Would it be too much? The pendant around his neck grew warmer, and he felt a slight thrill of anticipation course through him, so that he felt dreamy and content. It was a moment before he realized several minutes had passed by.

"Draco?" he said, stumbling a little over the words. The Slytherin was absolutely still, and the pendant grew cold as dread overtook Harry. A sliver of heat shone through but the bond between them was cutting off most of the magic, so it didn't help much. "I'll return it, if you want—" he began miserably, but then he was being crushed to Draco's chest.

"Potter, why are you so fucking-?" Draco muttered, forgetting to finish his sentence as he kissed a line down Harry's jaw. Held tightly in his hand was the Ringlink, hanging from a chain, with the words _For Luck, For Love, For You_ engraved on it; a saying Harry had once heard Hermione tell him was something pureblood families had used to greet each other when they were courting. But, of course, he wasn't thinking of that.

The Gryffindor, lost in the moment, could only marvel at the fact that at least someone couldn't see his flaws.

* * *

Tynan sat at her desk, drowsing lazily.

She was tired, so very tired, but she refused to admit that to Lucius. Malfoy Manor had suddenly become overrun with Aurors, but the deep catacombs beneath it that had yet to be discovered had been used to hastily rid themselves of incriminating evidence. In the meanwhile, they stayed at the home of a lesser-known Death Eater who had been killed. He'd no family, and it would take a while for the news to travel.

"Tynan?"

The blonde blinked, and attempted to pick her head up from the desk, but failed. The past few weeks had been a major drain on her magic, especially now that she was so far from Rabastan and he was locked away behind the better wards Hogwarts now had around them. She would still have been fine, but the effort it took to attack Harry Potter, and brush past the ancestral and modern magic that surrounded him, as well as the spells from his Urian mate, could have killed Albus Dumbledore himself.

"What?" she muttered irritably, watching as her brother swept imperiously into the room. He was worse at hiding his exhaustion than she, and there were light purple bags under his eyes. Wordlessly, Tynan pointed a finger at him.

"Thank you," he said grudgingly as the bags faded, and then disappeared. "Listen, I've got to know what you're planning to do about Bellatrix's prisoner. Lovegood."

"She can do whatever she wants with the brat, she's _her_ prisoner, not mine."

Lucius narrowed his eyes. "Yes, but the girl has something in her I think you might recognize. Bellatrix felt it, certainly, since it's a part of your blood as well."

"Shut up," Tynan said, but she forced herself to stand and totter along with Lucius as he took her towards the room down the hallway where Luna Lovegood was kept, in a state of dreamless sleep. Bellatrix was gone at the moment.

Tynan felt it immediately in the air, a slight crackling of slumbering magic, and she took a few steps into the room before collapsing next to the red velvet sheets of the bed Luna was kept on.

"I sense Seer in you, little diviner," she murmured, and ran her fingers through the blonde hair. Luna whimpered. "No, no, it's been tainted. You Saw too early, your gift is not ruined, but it will be painful when I must use you."

As she spoke, a plan formed quickly in Tynan's mind. She beckoned to her brother, smiling. "Lucius. Tell all the Death Eaters to lay low. Do not expect any activity whatsoever until June first. This little one; I shall work with her myself. I need you to find Genevieve for me, in the meanwhile."

Her brother snorted in disbelief, but it quelled when she looked at him in that cold, calculating, merciless way all Malfoys had always been attempting to achieve. Up until Draco was twelve, he'd believed only Tynan could do it. But then he'd seen the look Draco had shot in second year at Harry Potter—

His son's bloody mate.

"You'll get Draco back this way, trust me," Tynan said mildly. "And Harry Potter will play right into your hands as well, no worries. I've got nearly seven months to think this through. Give me time, and I shall give you results."

Lucius considered her for a moment, and then his options. "You can't hurt Draco," he said.

Tynan crossed her fingers—in front of her, so Lucius could see. He shook his head. "Don't joke. You can't touch him, and I need you to do something else for me. Someone is helping him along; Harry Potter, I mean. There is a certain aura, which I'm sure you've noticed, that wraps around him and gives him peace of mind. It's fading, because now he has Draco, but when we have them both I don't want it back."

Tynan nodded curtly. "I know. I've seen it. I know where it comes from. Shall I destroy it?"

"But of course," Lucius said, nodding. "And I want to see Harry Potter gone along with it."

Tynan cocked her head to the side, and stroked Luna's cheek. Lucius watched in fascination as a wisp of something black and blue slid from the pale skin, sparked, and the faded. His sister smirked suddenly, eyes distant as she formulated more of her plan.

"I'll do it."

* * *

_**Mid-January**_

"Damn it," Harry said, slamming his hand angrily on the table. "Malfoy, where in all seven hells did you learn how to play chess like this? Even Ron doesn't get me as frustrated!"

Draco shrugged, and leaned back in his chair. "Checkmate, Harry. Fourteenth time in a row, and I know I'm not cheating."

They were sitting in the Gryffindor common room; Blaise was puttering about the large and ornate bookshelf behind them, looking for the most morbid books to read. Carina had disappeared a while ago.

"So," Draco said slowly, as they set up the board again. "Today's the day."

"Yeah," Harry said.

And indeed, it was. After weeks of scouring the countryside and the Forbidden Forest, checking magical signatures, interrogating and jailing nearly one hundred people on various charges, Hogwarts had finally been declared safe again. Students were due to return today, on the Hogwarts Express. Harry had opted to stay behind, here in the common room he had spent so long in. House rules didn't even matter that much anymore, since there were just barely a handful of students.

Add to that the fact that he hadn't heard from his friends since Christmas, because all mail had been suspended shortly afterward, and he felt pretty much isolated. Sure, Draco was his mate, and more often than not they ended up snogging. But when he couldn't hang out with Draco, it was Blaise, who still wasn't that bad.

But there were times when memories hit them, hard, and one or more would be gone. The mood was morbid, and Harry found himself wishing he had Ron or Hermione to talk to. He knew Draco and Blaise had more fluid conversations, and sometimes felt jealous, but then he reminded himself that they had been _friends_, for Merlin's sake, since they were kids.

"Damn it," Harry said again, as he watched the board swirl before his eyes. "I can't concentrate," he muttered, and leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his eyebrows. A tendril of comfort wound around him.

"The pendant or you?" he asked, without opening his eyes. During their time spent together, they'd learned Draco could send out his aura, to either calm Harry down or locate him, although since they were inexperienced it wasn't as strong as it could be. It also couldn't reach across longer distances, which Draco stoically kept stating that it was because he wasn't trying that hard.

"Headmaster's been missing," Blaise said absently, stopping Draco from having to explain his guilty look. "Haven't seen him for a few days; Order business?"

"Blaise," Harry said, exasperated. "Do _not_ talk about that in public! Just because we told you there's such a thing doesn't mean you have to pretend like you actually know what goes on!"

"Headmaster's stupid for not inducting me as an outstanding member."

Draco snickered while Harry colored. "Blaise! I'm _glad_ he didn't induct you, you might have spilled everything to the Daily Prophet within the course of a few days!"

"Really, Potter? What did you say to Dumbledore? 'Don't let poor, handsome, cunning, Zabini in, Headmaster—ooh—that's a good Headmaster…' "

Draco started to laugh, full out, and Harry glared at Blaise. "You guys have been laughing every time Blaise says something like that. What's so funny?" The last part came out as a whine.

Blaise turned to the look at Harry, and cocked his head to the side. "Harry, have you ever been to boarding school?"

"HOGWARTS IS A BOARDING SCHOOL."

"Right, right," Blaise said, nodding. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "And you're gay. So you must know the _brilliant_ double entendre inserted into the whole Dumbledore's title and everything, right?"

Harry stared at him for a moment, before what Blaise meant finally got through to him. Blaise started laughing as Harry's cheek tinged, and then flamed. "That's—oh, _God_—that's disgusting! Blaise!"

Draco snorted and Harry rounded on him, chucking a couch pillow in his direction. "_Good _Headmaster? What was that one three days ago—Headmaster's private lair, when you were talking about his—oh, _God_—his _medals_? I thought you meant for courage!"

"It was," Blaise said solemnly. "Would you brave Snape yourself…?"

Harry's expression twisted, but it was wiped quickly off his face as Draco finally righted himself and tossed a pillow in his direction. The blond sat up, and rubbed a hand on his nose.

"That hurt like hell, Potter. I think I should kill you for that."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Do your worst, you juvenile excuse for a Malfoy." He started as Draco glared at him, a true one, which he hadn't seen in weeks. It was enough time for the blond to launch a pillow at him full-force, so strongly that when it hit Harry feathers spilled out from the bag and into the air.

"Look at all that bird we've wasted," Blaise said sadly, twirling a plume between his fingers. Harry snickered and pointed to both of the Slytherins.

"You could be one, with all those feathers in your hair."

"You should talk, fuzzy."

"Excuse me, these are _feathers_. If anything, I am _downy_."

Draco shook his head and collapsed onto the couch. "You two are useless. I can't believe this is what I might have been stuck doing for the rest of the school year if actual _people_ were coming back tomorrow."

"I resent that!" Harry said, blowing irately at a feather on his nose. Draco watched his efforts in obvious amusement. Harry glowered at him. "Make one snide comment, and I swear I'll jump you—and not in the good way."

There was a moment's pause, in which Blaise conveniently positioned himself on the side of the couch as Draco cast his eyes down. Harry's triumphant grin was halfway across his face when the blond's soft retort reached his ears.

"Make me, plebeian."

* * *

"Do you think he missed us?" Ron asked as he shouldered his bag. He and Ginny were walking towards Gryffindor Tower, anticipation crawling through their very bones.

"Who, Harry? Not a chance," Ginny said sarcastically. When her brother gave her a pointed look, she sighed. "Of _course_, Ron. Besides, he doesn't know about—the thing yet."

"Hermione's still not speaking to me," Ron intoned miserably. "Oh, Merlin, I never thought I'd miss the day when I heard her nagging me to get started with my homework already, or to shut up about being manly and give her and Harry a hug already whenever we got back from hols."

"You're stupid, did you know that?"

Ron puffed irritably. "Ginny, are you listening?"

"Yes, yes," the redheaded girl said breezily, nearly skipping as they climbed up the stairs. "But she sent you a Christmas present, didn't she? And so did everyone else, including Harry."

"Yes, I know, but—Ginny, _stop_ hopping—you're only saying that to get me to shut up. We've got a crisis on our hands, Ginny! My best friends are never going to speak to me again!"

"Yes, but that's hardly Ginny's fault, now is it?" Seamus appeared in front of them as they turned the corner, Neville and Dean already trailing behind him. "Looks like we're all back; too bad for the professors."

Neville gave the Weasleys a curious look. "What were you talking about, Ron?"

"Nothing," Ginny interrupted. "Just how Harry will react when Ron tells him he's fallen in love with Hermione, and how she will when he tells her he's fallen in love with her."

"Mate," Dean said, shaking his head sadly. "I thought we'd decided this ages ago. Hermione will be happy, Harry will be happy, you and she will shag like bunnies, and Harry will be forced to take care of said byproducts of over-population…it's all been sorted out already."

Ron snorted, but his face quickly became one of complete dejection as they reached the Gryffindor portrait. There was Hermione, standing outside of the common room, leaning against a visibly upset Fat Lady.

"Hey, Herm!" Seamus waved to her, but she shushed him furiously.

"I've been listening to this for a while—I think that Harry might be killing Malfoy! And Blaise is cheering them on!"

Ginny hurried to press her ear to the canvas as well, and frowned. "Or they could be shagging and Blaise could be cheering them on. Ew."

"Open the portrait!" Seamus cried. "My good Lady, we must save our friends! And see some shagging!"

"Seamus, shut up," Hermione hissed, but it was too late. The Fat Lady had swung outwards, knocking the two girls aside. Hermione sat up, rubbing bewilderedly at her head, whilst Ginny gave the back of the portrait a sharp rap.

"Seems you forgot to ask for the password," the redhead exclaimed, rubbing at her knuckles ruefully. "Stupid portrait…"

"Ginny?"

The whole group turned to peer inside of the hole, but their vision was limited. Seamus didn't hesitate before leaping into the narrow crawlway and sliding through, tumbling out on the other end with a soft _thump_.

A frozen scene greeted him; feathers were still floating softly in the air, and Blaise had stilled in the middle of his attempt to clamber over a chair. He was still grinning inanely at Harry, who had straddled Draco and was stuffing feathers down his back. Draco, meanwhile, was attempting desperately not to laugh.

"I," Seamus said, glancing around with a steadily growing smile as the others slipped in behind him, "am frightened. And yet excited."

"I, on the other hand, am exhilarated." Blaise waved at them all, rolled off the chair with an audible thud, and popped up again. "Welcome back!"

Harry shoved down the last handful of feathers into Draco's shirt and stood up, beaming. In a moment he had crossed the room and was hugging Ron and Hermione with a ferocious amount of happiness.

"Hey, mate, glad to see you too," Ron muttered, blushing bright red. Hermione patted him on the back and smiled.

"You should let us down now, Harry, or else we'll die of suffocation."

"Sorry," the Gryffindor said, blushing bright red.

"Oh, no hug for me?" Seamus pretending to pout as he pulled himself up, but Harry was already making for him, Neville, Dean and Ginny.

"I can't believe it's been a month!" he exclaimed, eyes shining. "I've missed you all like crazy! How're your parents, Ron? And yours Hermione? Seamus, did your dad find out about what happened? And Neville, I heard your grandmother was enormously pleased with you. Dean, did you check out the Muggle football scores? Swore you'd keep me updated at the beginning of the year, remember?"

Ginny slipped away as Harry bombarded his friends with questions. "Hi," she said to Draco, who was levering himself up off the floor and wheezing slightly. "Looks like you too have been having fun. Thanks for getting Harry out of his slump."

Blaise sidled up next to her. "There was no problem, milady. Did you know, I single-handedly faced off against the demons roving his mind, fighting them all off left-handed—even though I'm a righty!"

"Oh, you conceited twat," Draco said, shaking his head. He made as though to swipe at Blaise's head but the enigmatic Italian reached for Ginny's hand and drew her closer.

"Here, Ginevra let us escape to a more welcoming place. Obviously, we are not wanted here," he finished, casting a scathing glance at Draco, who merely sniffed and held his head up.

"Goodbye then," Ginny said, and then smiled. "Hunchback." She gave Draco a hug as he stiffened, patting the pile of feathers, before walking away with Blaise. Draco trailed behind; rolling his eyes at the over-enthusiastic greeting the Gryffindors gave to Blaise.

"Malfoy!" Seamus said, waving widely. "Come here. So, what exactly were you doing to poor Harry?"

"Poor Harry?" Draco snorted. "Have you seen the stuffing under my shirt?" As if to prove his point he pulled the hem away from himself and scowled at the copious amount of brightly colored plumes that fell out of it.

Harry winked. "Only the best for a prince, am I right?"

"I hate you."

"It's mutual, trust me," Harry said, but unlike their past arguments there was an obviously teasing air underneath. "Hey, let's have Dobby bring up some things. We can celebrate."

"In here?" Ron said, still a little reluctant to draw attention to him. "We could take it all to the Room of Requirement instead."

Harry automatically turned to explain what the Room of Requirement was to Draco, but the blond surprised him by merely raising an aristocratic eyebrow and smirking lightly. "It had better be some elegant things you're conjuring up, Weasley."

"They will be!" Ron said, not without a hint of a blush.

Harry soon dropped whatever suspicions were beginning to form as Ron and Draco began arguing; his friends were back, and that was what mattered. Everything could wait, even if it was just for a day.

And oh, how short that wait was.

* * *

"Severus?"

Albus Dumbledore moved into the Potions room. His eyes were dulled and he seemed to be more tired than before as he slipped into one of the many chairs beside the Potions master. Snape nodded curtly.

"Headmaster. What brings you here?" He lightly massaged his temples; anything Dumbledore actually came to his territory for must be important.

"I'd like to—you obviously know of the position Harry and Draco are in at the moment, are you not? I fear something might happen to one of them. Their enemies will most likely wait until their next bond is complete, and I'm afraid I won't be able to find a safe place for Harry before the summer is out."

Snape frowned. "They've got a maximum of four months, Headmaster. Whether they like it or not, they're going to have to complete the final step in the bonding process, unless something slows it down."

"Yes, that's true." Dumbledore licked his lips, and Snape realized exactly what the wizard was attempting to say. The former Death Eater said nothing, however; he was finally seeing Albus Dumbledore hesitate over something, and he wanted to have it be long and drawn out.

"I need you to make a potion for me, Severus, that I am sure only you can make. You have four months of course to complete it. Is that enough time?"

"More than enough, if I know what I'm brewing."

Dumbledore averted the searing onyx eyes. "I would like something that can slow down the bonding process between the two boys, something that will restrict some of their emotions so that they cannot—be willing to do it as quickly. Just in case they are considering it now. I've watched them over the holidays and they seem to be just fine."

"You're manipulating students," Snape said, unable to keep silent. "They won't like it. What will you tell Potter?"

"That it's for his own good," Dumbledore said firmly. "He won't have to know all of it. I know that the worst storm will come just before they are totally ready to do this, and that is when I will hand over the potion. They will gladly accept it, with a few well-placed words."

"And when they find out?"

Dumbledore leaned back, and polished the rim of his glasses with his sleeve without removing them from his face. "They will forgive me, Severus, or they won't. Either way, don't expect me to forgive myself."

They held each other's gazes for a moment before Snape broke contact, standing up in a fashion that made sure his chair scraped along the ground. Dumbledore winced, and held out a hand.

"Please, do not think of me so harshly. He is your godson, I understand, and like a son to you himself. But he will be in even more danger if he is bonded to the arch-nemesis of one of the most powerful men on Earth."

"What if it was you?" Snape snapped. "What if it was _you_ I had to protect Draco from? What if I'm supposed to say no to you?"

Dumbledore's eyes regarded him sadly.

"Then, Severus…let us hope that you can make the right decision, and that I am not quite as evil as you think me to be."

Snape eyed him warily for a moment longer, before he swept out of the room, muttering under his breath about finding new ingredients. In the Potions room, Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, one of the greatest wizards known to wizard kind, placed his head on a desk in a weary motion.

"Harry," he said softly. "Oh, how I have failed you."

* * *

Sorry about long wait. On the plus side, let me tell all of you something:

**_FIFTEEN PAGES. _**

I typed this all up tonight, my fingers hurt, I cannot watch any more Loveless or Fruits Basket episodes because my computer is crap but if anyone knows any sights where I can watch them please drop me a line, and it seems to me that I got a scholarship the other day but I've been too distracted by the fact that my cellphone disappeared to really care.

Ah, thanks for reminding me, _**Jools. **_After finding my inbox swamped with messages from you I began to feel a little guilty...and plus, Creme De Leche ice cream is good for a grieving soul, especially when all they want to do is type fanfiction and cry over how they can't decide whether Yuki should get together with Tohru or have an illicit relationship with Kyou.

And I have seen all the Gravi episodes. 

Solizlet was right.

I may just not have a life after all.

I think I shall attempt to actually sleep now. Despite the fact that it won't work, but my ranting space has been used up and I probably should just write a rant to all my teachers who have decided midterms should all be in the SAME FECKING WEEK.

I love you all, honestly I do.

* * *


	21. Noisy Pins In Quiet Rooms Make Silence

Disclaimer: All characters are not mine; be proud, I said it.

* * *

_Would you believe me  
if I said I didn't need you  
Cause I wouldn't believe you  
if you said the same to me  
near death, last breath, and  
barely hanging on.  
would you believe me  
if I said I didn't need you? _

-Skeptics and True Believers - The Academy Is...**  
**

**

* * *

noisy pins in quiet rooms make silence**

**issalee

* * *

**

Luna had decided early on in her imprisonment that it was best to avoid Bellatrix Lestrange. The woman seemed to have a stranger obsession with her, acting as though Luna was some sort of child she had been more than happy to care for.

It was better to stay with Tynan, who while quite demented was generally quiet and even taught Luna a few things. Her lessons were continued, taught by an old house-elf named Tidget who never attempted to reprimand her, and because of her quick wits and huge amount of time she quickly learned as much as she would have had she been at Hogwarts and a little more.

Luna had been provided with clothes, many of them miniature versions of what Bellatrix and Tynan wore. She had resisted at first, just as she had resisted eating and wearing her hair in the elaborate styles Tidget and another, younger house-elf named Middy fixed for her. But she had, in all ways broken down; when her old clothes had been burned, when they had forced the food onto her, and when they had pulled at her hair, making it stand out and stretch painfully, so that she could be magically held.

Around her second month, they had moved to a castle in the countryside, and a new occupant had been waiting for them.

Genevieve had long, waist-length brown hair and wide, ocher eyes. She would have still been very plain, had it not been for the fact that she had a voluptuous body, and her eyes and hair had an unnatural shine to them that made her all the more mysterious. She needed only to snap her fingers and her outfits would change in remarkably striking ways. Her lips were always painted a blood red and she always had the same, dark green choker around her neck.

Oh, and she was a succubus.

Luna had been frightened by her at first, but she had learned that Genevieve was nothing when it came to Tynan and Bellatrix and Lucius. The trio often went off on business, and Luna was left alone with the young succubus so often that they became near-friends.

It was around March when she heard of what had happened from the young succubus, who always reported to her as much as she could. It was an agreement; in exchange, Luna did not attempt to escape. Every time she had in the past, the same nightmare spell Bellatrix had used on her was placed upon her again, and each time, she lost a shred of her sanity as she heard her mother's screams again and again, and saw everything, all of her horrors, tripled. Genevieve was merely upset because she was without a playmate while Luna was recovering.

* * *

"So," The succubus said airily one night. They were sitting on one of the castle's turrets, both on opposite sides, and partly shouting so that they could be heard above the wind. "I have news."

"Speak it," Luna said. She had lost much of her dreamy state during her stay, but when she became serene it was often for longer, more listless amounts of time. She was afraid she was never going to wake up, sometimes.

"Well," Genevieve said, rolling over on the ground and laying an arm across her stomach. She was wearing the same, rather plain ball gown as Luna, only in the dark green she obviously preferred versus Luna's stark white. "It seems that potion that Snape was brewing up has been put to good use."

"What potion?"

"Don't you remember? Goyle told us that the spells he'd made sure his son had placed in Snape's office went to good use. They're still there, and we heard them talking."

"You never told me that," Luna said in an accusatory tone. She stood. "I'm going back inside. I'm cold, and I bet you're just lying."

Genevieve sprang up, and wrapped her arms around the taller girl's waist. The succubus dropped her chin over Luna's shoulder. "But poor Harry has been so _affected_ by it. And your dearest Draco even more! Are you truly that heartless?"

"Don't speak to me about being heartless!" Luna pried the hands off and whirled around to glare at the girl. "You who sucks the soul of men and women alike! Aren't we humans all the same to you?"

"Well, yes," Genevieve said. She closed her eyes and slipped into the darkness. A moment later she reappeared, stretched out on top of one of the battlement's turrets, wearing a slinky yellow dress with one strap nearly falling off. "But that doesn't mean it's not amusing to watch them."

Luna made as if to walk away, but Genevieve only spoke faster. "The two of them started getting restless. The need to bond was driving them crazy. Snape had Draco in his office countless times, and we heard _every_ agonizing moment, as he poured his heart out to his professor. By then Snape had perfected the potion."

"But the potion wouldn't work," Luna said. "Their bond is too strong to be demolished, half-finished or not."

"Ah," Genevieve said, wagging a finger. "That is where you are wrong. They can choose to be separated, and their pain can be dulled enough so that at least Harry will not feel it. And all they need to do is get angry; the potion will amplify their feelings, and make sure it stretches out for a long period of time."

Luna remembered something else. "Will it last until June? When Tynan plans to attack?"

"But of course!" Genevieve clapped her hands and reappeared next Luna, smiling widely. "And by that time, their anger will have either just begun to simmer down or it will have magnified."

"Is there—" Luna considered her next words carefully, and tried to say them in a nonchalant way. "Is there a way to break the spell?"

"Yes! But I'm not telling _you_."

"Hey!" Luna waved a fist in the air as Genevieve disappeared, leaving only the sound of her laughter behind. Luna wrinkled her nose, and sniffed lightly. To anyone else, she was merely irritated. But she was brushing back tears, determined not to cry. The succubus could still be around, and would withhold information if she thought Luna was too interested.

"Um…"

Luna whirled around, ready to strike out, but instead found herself face to face with a quivering Tidget.

"Miss…miss…Master Tynan wants to see miss. Is miss coming?"

Sighing, Luna nodded and followed the house-elf inside. Behind her, Genevieve took a moment to brush some imaginary dirt off her dress.

"I will so enjoy," she said, "breaking the spirit of this boy who has her enraptured." Genevieve twirled a lock of hair around her finger, eyes gleaming as she melted into the darkness once more.

"Harry Potter, I await you with a thousand strands of patience…"

* * *

Harry frowned against the coolness of his pillow, eyes brimming with unshed tears.

This was his third fight with the Slytherin he had believed to be his mate in a day. Each time it was as though they'd regressed; back to the time when all they'd wanted to do was pound each other's heads in.

And it had all began because Harry had refused to move in with Draco.

After the tension started to rise between them because their bond was _itching_ to be renewed, and Draco had gone to Snape enough times to nearly drive the man insane, a plan was concocted—they'd sleep in the same dorm, just in case, to see what would happen.

Harry hadn't been so willing to do so. He knew, as did everyone else, exactly what would happen if he did, and as much as he was starting to realize how strong his feelings for the Slytherin were he wasn't sure he was willing to take such a big step.

Even now, when he remembered it, all he felt was confusion and the sharp backlash of anger.

* * *

"Harry," Draco said, bowing gallantly. Harry rolled his eyes but took the proffered hand anyway. They were heading down to the Great Hall to eat dinner. It was quite late, but a Saturday, so it was okay.

Blaise was telling Ginny something that had her blushing and laughing at the same time, and Hermione was chiding the Slytherin under her breath. Ron was walking next to Ginny, glowering angrily at Blaise every step of the way. Pansy, Theo, Carina, Seamus and Dean were laughing outrageously over something Neville had just stuttered out and blushed over.

They seemed like the perfect group, and even as they sat at the far end of the Ravenclaw table (neutral territory) the sharp air of foreboding that had been there since the attack on Hogwarts before Christmas seemed to slack off a little.

"Luv," Draco said, interrupting Harry as he spooned gravy liberally all over his mashed potatoes. The Slytherin seemed nervous—unnaturally so. "You know about the—the bonding, right?"

Harry smiled while Draco cursed himself for stumbling. "Well, yeah, seeing as I'm on the receiving end of it, remember?"

Draco decided that now, while Harry was in such a good mood, it would be best if he just told Harry everything. So he did, stuttering in certain spots and blushing a bright red as he told Harry what Pomfrey had also said, about their…situation, and how all things needed would be provided for them in that same room. Either Draco hadn't noticed Harry's frown and confused features, or he mistook it for something else.

"Stop," Harry said. Draco did so, surprised. "I won't do it."

"What? But—why?"

"I just can't, Draco," Harry said, turning back to his food. He picked at it, al appetite suddenly lost. When he felt the blond's emotions taking a turn for the worst, the Gryffindor turned back.

"Don't do this, not in public," Harry hissed. "We can talk later."

"And why the fuck not? I can bloody do what I want," Draco retorted, but he sounded more like he was sulking than anything. And it was here that Harry made his first mistake.

"Oh, don't be a bloody baby."

Draco stood, attracting the attention of everyone down the table.

"A baby? A _baby_? I think I'm handling this pretty bloody well considering the fact that this is driving me _crazy_. I haven't killed you yet, have I?"

"Well, no, but at this rate I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't."

"Don't be so condescending. I wouldn't touch you if I had to."

"That," Harry said, standing as well, "is a lie and you know it."

Draco's next actions were so completely and totally unexpected that all Harry had a chance to do was throw up his hands before he was attacked. When he lowered them, he was drenched in the goblet of pumpkin juice that Draco had been drinking from before.

"W—what?' Harry's mouth flapped open in shock.

Up at the head table, Snape scowled. "They were supposed to drink it, now spread it on their bodies like pigs."

"Same effects, though," Dumbledore said idly.

Snape glared at him.

Harry, who by now had recovered himself, grabbed his own goblet and threw its contents in Draco's face. The blond blinked slowly, surprised by this retaliation before he growled under his breath.

"You _bastard_," he muttered.

"Actually," Harry said coolly, "I know my parents were married according to law. Yours, I suppose would have been kicked out before they were even in the courtyard of the church."

It was a direct attack, and one that went too far. The teachers were standing, already heading for the group, but Blaise had reached Draco first and was hauling him backwards, Theo and Pansy at his side. The blond put up no resistance. His face had drained of all color, and his eyes lifeless.

"That," Carina said, as she glared at Harry, "was a remarkably stupid thing to do."

And she left.

* * *

Harry pounded a fist into his pillow, never once stopping to think about why he was so angry still. It wasn't like him, but then again, it wasn't like Draco to continue the hateful words; not after their mating.

_What if it was fake?_ Harry wondered. All the whispered words. What Draco had said in the infirmary? Were they all part of some twisted, carefully fabricated plan? Had Draco had an actual mate somewhere else?

But Harry liked him too. Maybe it was a spell…

"Some spell," he murmured, and let his head flop on the pillow. How he hated his life…

* * *

Luna fidgeted slightly as she sat in Tynan's bedroom. Tidget had crowned her long, blonde hair with pink roses as they had entered, and she was awaiting the arrival of the older witch.

"Miss…" Tidget reappeared. "Miss, Tidget is to give you this. Tidget thinks—he thinks it makes miss feel better…"

"Thank you," Luna replied absently. She took the goblet the house-elf had been handing to her and sipped from it. It tasted vaguely like wine, and she supposed that was what it might have been, only watered down.

Then she felt the wooziness, and knew she had been tricked.

"Tidget," she said, standing, "What's in my drink, you—rotten—Gods…"

Tynan swept gracefully into the room just as Luna collapsed. The lady Malfoy seemed content to just prod gently at Luna's body before she stepped around it carefully. Tynan kneeled on the ground, and smirked wickedly.

"Genevieve!" she called. The succubus appeared, fangs at the ready.

"Is it time, Mistress Malfoy?"

Tynan nodded. "Do as I have told you, and—wait, you greedy thing!" she held out a vial, wrought of glass and gold, and placed it in Genevieve's hand. "And _do_ be careful with it, else I may be tempted to hurt you."

"Of course, Mistress," Genevieve said, not unkindly, before she swooped down. In a moment she was straddling Luna's waist, and she gave a decisive smirk before leaning down and touching her lips to Luna's.

Tynan watched in amusement; she had never seen a succubus at work close up before. There seemed to be virtually no work involved; Genevieve had mumbled some words against Luna's mouth, and then an obvious tug of war over the soul started. Both of the girls seemed to be holding their breaths, and Luna's hands fluttered a few times as she reached faintly to protect herself. Genevieve smacked her forehead lightly, and the small ripple of shock was enough so that the drugged Ravenclaw could do nothing but cease struggling, and the slump.

Tynan frowned. Of course, it would be harder because Luna was a Seer—one with abilities not yet awoken, but a Seer nonetheless. There was a flash of silver light emanating from the Ravenclaw's mouth, and then nothing. Genevieve still did not go back.

The succubus took the golden vial, and held it carefully to Luna's lips as she came up for air. The Ravenclaw choked, and then lay still. A wisp of light, fluttery material settled like a sheen over Genevieve's hand for a moment, before it was coaxed into the vial by some invisible force.

"What did you swallow?" Tynan asked as the girl wiped her mouth.

"Her essence," Genevieve replied, shrugging. "A tidbit of what I could have had, considering the way this soul tasted. Like—like—soft things, soft and light and feathery tastes in my mouth."

"How poetic," Tynan remarked dryly. She took the vial from Genevieve, who was now pouting, and motioned angrily at Tidget. The house-elf had been cowering in a corner but now timidly moved up as the lady Malfoy ordered it about.

"Take this," she said, pointing to Luna's body, "to the lower dungeons. The _lower_ ones, do you hear? Make sure no one sees you and for Merlin's sake, she'll be bleeding soon if I'm correct so be at hand with a rag when I call for you."

As Tidget disappeared with Luna's lifeless body, Genevieve swooned theatrically. "Bleeding? How dreadfully violent. You owe me, now. That girl was my only playmate, and now I've got no one else."

"Darling," Tynan said, crooning softly as she patted the succubus's cheek. "Wait two months, darling, and I shall give you a soul whose taste you will never even be able to describe."

"I can't wait."

Tynan's eyes glittered dangerously as she corked the vial, and tucked it into the folds of her dress.

"Yes, neither can I."

* * *

**_June 1st _**

_**Hogwarts Castle**_

_I need something to take my mind off him_, Harry decided.

It was afternoon, and he; Ron and Hermione had one of those rare days where they all had the same free period. It was here that he noticed the first of several inconsistencies.

Whereas before, the seating arrangement would have been woefully disorganized (Harry sprawled all over the couch, attempting to finish homework, and Ron leaning over Hermione's shoulder as she swatted him away) now it was unbelievably tense. Ron was sitting in front of the fireplace, scribbling frantically at a Potions essay that should have been done ages ago, and Harry had just managed to finish his. Hermione was sitting primly on the couch, reading a heavy tome.

There was a miserable air between them, like a dark cloak had spread. Harry, suddenly feeling very tired, wondered if they'd had another fight. He realized it had been like this for a while now, and only Draco had distracted him from the inner torture his friends were probably feeling.

A panicked feeling suddenly struck him. Was it because of him they weren't talking? Oh, Merlin, he didn't even know if Ron had maybe disagreed with his relationship with Draco, and Hermione would of course have been compliant with Harry…

"Guys," he said before he could stop himself. "Were you ever upset about the whole Urian thing? That I didn't—didn't do much with you anymore?"

Startled out of their work, his two best friends blinked owlishly at him. Hermione answered first, with a kind smile plastered across her face. "Of course, Harry, at the beginning. But we were fine with it after a while."

"Yeah," Ron said, looking distinctly uncomfortable. Harry noted the long look Ron gave Hermione before returning to his essay. The green-eyed boy settled back in his chair, and looked between his two friends again. The tired feeling returned, and he fingered the necklace he wore anxiously. It had been black for nearly three months now, and he was starting to wonder if that beautiful, translucent shade of forest green would ever return.

Ron suddenly gave an angry huff and looked as though he was about to throw his quill down. Harry rolled his eyes and turned to Hermione.

"You want to help him out, Herm?"

"No."

The answer was short, and quick, and biting. It was everything Hermione was not, and both Harry and Ron blinked twice in quick succession before Ron stood and threw down his essay.

"I said I was _sorry_."

"It doesn't matter!" Hermione picked up her haversack and began to throw her things into it as she ranted. "What you did can't be forgiven Ron!"

"What I did was a _good_ thing, for the sake of all humanity!" Ron shouted.

"Hey," Harry said, feeling a little frightened. "Calm down, you two. I'm sure whatever it is, it can be solved, I mean, come on…"

"Shut up! You don't even know what we're talking about!" Hermione turned to scream it at him, before whirling to face Ron. "And I've been looking for that _stupid_ charm and I haven't found any mention of it _anywhere_!"

"What was with that?" Harry said, a little angrily.

"Oh, great, now you're getting _everyone_ pissed off at you," Ron shot back. "And Harry's done worse than me! Should we have ditched him for killing V—V—Voldemort?"

With that, Hermione snapped.

"Voldemort was a disgusting, nasty creature who didn't deserve to live! Human or not, the little girl was a _little girl_, and you were still a monster for destroying her." She swung her bag over her shoulders, and yelled her last words at him, tears streaming down her face.

"And I can't be friends with you if you're trying to be like _that_ bastard!"

Harry grabbed her wrist, and opened his mouth to say something but she was crying out at him too. "And you! Doing that to Draco! He's had enough problems, and I've heard from Pansy that he can't even sleep these days! It's all _your_ fault, Harry! Don't you see that? He didn't do anything wrong to you; he waited so long for you Harry and then you just went _off_ on him like that!"

"What? What about you and Ron, you won't even let me know what's going on!"

"You don't have to know everything, Harry," Ron said bitterly. Harry spun to face him, eyes wide and furious.

"If you're going to be like that then fine! If what you did was so terrible that you couldn't even tell me, then maybe you _are_ just like Voldemort!"

"Don't say that," Ron said, eyes narrowed. "If anything _you're_ him."

Harry punched him.

* * *

Pansy hadn't been lying. Draco did have trouble sleeping. And waking, for that matter. Every moment he spent conscious, and even unconscious, was invaded with _HarryHarryHarry_.

Not only was his Urian side suffering, but he had to remember that he hadn't been able to feed or eat since the day before the whole argument had happened. It was driving him crazy that he couldn't even seem to remember what his classes were, and sometimes his name, because all he could think about was green eyes.

The parchment that Pansy had given him had been used several times, for one name, and he was starting to get anxious. Other than being a little tired, Harry seemed to be fine.

The ringlink he still wore around his neck seemed to be constantly warm, and even now as he perched himself on the edge of his chair, it was burning. Outside it was sunny, and he suddenly took the necklace off, placing it in front of him.

Glinting almost evilly at him, the ring lay on the polished wooden surface. Draco snatched it up again, eyes narrowing, and then they softened.

_Well I'm gone._

Absently, he bit the end of the chain, letting his fangs slip through the chain's holes, and half-steepled his fingers. The chain dipped in between his fingers, lacing itself between them as though it belonged there. The ring itself dangled on the other side of his hands, and he smiled softly.

Harry was angry with him. He was angry with himself. His friends and Harry's friends were furious at the both of them. What was there to be smiling about?

In four days it would be his birthday. He would be seventeen. And the angriness he had been feeling since March had been fading away gradually. Hogwarts was nearly normal again; most of those that had been captured were straggling home. People had been found, and if dead, buried. There was no word from the Death Eaters, but several who had gotten too anxious in the wait had gone on solo attacks; all had been captured.

Rabastan Lestrange was kept quiet, and the trial had gone on without Harry. It had been decided that at the end of the school year, the Aurors who had been protecting the school would take him to Azkaban, where he would receive the Kiss.

_Click._

Draco blinked, and the smile disappeared. Pansy was standing in the doorway, arms crossed. Next to her was Blaise, who was holding a camera loosely in his hands.

"Nice picture," the young wizard said. "I'll have to save that."

"Hi," Draco said, not bothering to say another word. He was hungry, he suddenly realized. "Did you get something?"

"Yeah!" Theo appeared from behind them as well, and dropped a bowl filled to the brim with strawberries. They've nearly run out of these in the kitchens, Draco. You'd better be careful.

But the Slytherin wasn't paying attention. He had already begun eating the fruit, red juice dribbling down his fingers as he speared them onto his fangs.

"What was he smiling about, do you think?" Blaise said under his breath.

Pansy shrugged.

* * *

Harry was sitting moodily inside of his bed, curtains drawn, when the sun rose three days later. He hadn't spoken a word to Ron and Hermione, and was starting to feel the effects. First Draco, now his two best friends.

Ginny had been exasperated and ranted about how he was going to end up an old hermit at this rate, he had snapped at her to shut up and she had bristled. Blaise, predictably, was now not speaking to him as well.

Ron was missing, from classes and from the general vicinity of the school as well. Harry checked the Marauder's Map almost daily. Hermione now spent so much time in the library it had become a second home to her, and she rarely returned to the common room. Wherever it was Ron went, he disappeared from the Map when he reached it. Harry didn't have the energy to follow.

Neville, surprisingly, had been the first person to tell him he was an idiot, and then Seamus and Dean had quickly declared their allegiance to 'Lord' Neville as well. It helped a little that they weren't speaking to Ron or Hermione as well, but Harry still didn't know what to expect.

It was a Saturday, so Harry had no problems with brooding until noon, and by then everyone had left. When Harry finally slipped out of bed and got dressed, he came downstairs to an empty common room and near-empty castle. Of course, it was the last Hogsmeade weekend, and the third since they'd stationed Aurors around the small village.

Harry ate lunch in silence, eyes automatically darting to the Slytherin table, although no one was there.

As he trudged outside, dark started to fall. Harry tripped over a root, shrouded in the grass, and swore as he tumbled to a halt next to the lake, but didn't bother to pick himself up.

Tomorrow, he reflected, was Draco's birthday.

As soon as the thought implanted himself in his mind, his right arm started to ache. Groaning softly, Harry attempted to stand, but the pain was too much for him. Thunder cracked and a bolt of lighting arched in the shy above him.

"Damnit," he muttered. Rain always picked the worst times to show up. With another half-hearted groan, he pushed himself under the tree.

Harry didn't know how long he stayed there, watching as it grew darker and he steadily grew weaker and sicker. All he knew was that he had never felt so sorry and miserable in his entire life. He'd spent the whole day and this whole time just now thinking about Draco, and with sudden renewed vigor, he decided he was going to apologize as soon as possible.

_Come to me, Harry._

Harry remembered the odd dreams he'd been having. His mother and his father, having a picnic, and his mother laughing as James handed her three roses.

"Three, Harry, is my favorite number," she said.

Those dreams were always followed by ones where he was surrounded by blood, the metallic taste in his mouth, matting his hair, clinging to his skin, and the same voice that was calling to him now screaming at, laughing while _he_ screamed.

_Harry, you promised._

And Harry collapsed.

The next morning, in Gryffindor tower, his bed was found bloodied and he was missing. No one knew where Harry had went, or why he had left.

And no one was more devastated than Draco.

* * *

GAH. 

For two days I couldn't upload cuz wouldn't let me.

Er...and for a couple of weeks, I've finally let loose of my obsession with Fruits Basket and moved it to...Fullmetal Alchemist. And I cried tonight, after seeing the last episode, and so before I went to bed I went "DAMMIT" and typed this quickie up and a little crackfic to keep me going for the FMA universe.

On the bad side, now...

I seem to be short several Valentines. That was depressing...ano, I don't even do Valentine's Day, though - which is why I didn't make any special effort to get this out for it. I did, however, type a deathfic starring only Lucius Malfoy and Hermione (in which they are NOT romantically involved, nor inclined to care about each other) but don't expect it to pop up soon. I am wondering whether to erase the ONE inkling of a hint in there where it clearly (SUBTLY) states that Hermione was murdered cuz she didn't want to give up the location of Harry's true love, which is, I think, quite obvious by now.

And I did a new chapter for 50 Things. Shall I post it?

* * *


	22. Bloodstains On The Carpet, Punch On Your

Disclaimer: Booty. How could this ever be mine?

* * *

_Hoping for the best  
Just, hoping nothing happens  
a thousand clever lines  
unread, on clever napkins  
I will never ask  
if you, don't ever tell me  
I know you well enough  
to know, you never loved me _**  
**

- Cute Without the 'E' - Taking Back Sunday

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**bloodstains on your carpet, punch on your shoes**

**issalee

* * *

**

Harry had never been in so much pain in his entire life.

His right arm flamed up, and the markings on it were now a bright red; he could swear they were searing themselves into his skin. Over him hovered a dark shape, grinning malevolently. He could make out a glint of what seemed to be fangs, and tried to reach up with weak hands, calling Draco's name. The figure laughed, and disappeared.

He was feverish for so long, the days began to blur together, and his arm ached on and off. He fell asleep for so long it was a wonder to him when he woke up and felt himself, still whole.

Whenever he was well enough, he would try to see where he was, but well enough meant that he wasn't nauseated, and could stay awake. With his finger Harry scratched notches into the wood next to his head, attempting to keep track of the days. He supposed he missed some, and when this inane thought struck him, he nearly laughed.

He had no idea where he was, who he was with, or how he got there, but what he _was_ worried about was whether he was keeping a good enough record of how long he had been there for.

On the sixth day (by the notches) he awoke to find that he had forgotten something. Harry didn't know what it was exactly that he had forgotten, but he knew it must have been important, since a niggling feeling in the back of his mind told him so.

The Gryffindor pushed himself up, and ignored the dizziness that came along with it. From what he could tell, Harry was in a bed, and in a large, decorative room. He ignored that and stumbled out of the bed, feeling immediately lightheaded as he fell to the floor.

A moan escaped his lips before he could catch it, but he didn't care as he crawled weakly, hoping for any sort of escape. With his limited eyesight, all he managed to do was bump into a desk and knock over what was on top.

Harry reached out tentatively; what seemed to be a bottle of some sort, a quill and parchment…and there, his glasses. Feeling relieved, the dark-haired boy slipped them on, thanking them silently as the room swam into focus. It was still a little blurry around the edges, but he supposed that was from his sickness.

Pushing himself up against the desk, Harry took a look around the room again. It seemed to be old-fashioned, with an ornate, wooden four-poster bed in the middle and the desk he was leaning against. Across the room was a large armoire and next to that, what looked like a vanity table. There were two doors, both gleaming darkly against the painted green walls. Harry attempted not to notice the sheets on the bed, flecked with blood and damp with sweat, as he walked to the doors, leaning against the walls for support.

The first one he tried was locked, but the second one opened easily. It led to a bathroom, white and marble. Harry narrowed his eyes. This was wizarding work, he surmised, since there was basically just a washing bowl inside and a large tube that took up most of the bathroom. An upturned, raised basin closer to the ground with a drain in the middle, he took to be his toilet. No Muggle would have these things, and even in his ill state Harry could sense the tendrils of powerful protection magic hanging in the air, locking him out of the rest of the house and confining him to this room.

This room, he thought as well, glancing out from the doorway, was prepared for him, so they expected him as well. There on the side of the wall were many of his things; no clothes, but his Firebolt, some books, and an empty cage were sitting idly in a corner. Harry swore mentally; if they had done something to Hedwig, he swore he would kill them himself.

Without warning, bile rose in his throat. Harry automatically threw himself towards the upturned basin, and retched violently. His headache had returned, and he wished desperately that he could have had aspirin, screw a potion.

A cool hand suddenly pressed itself upon his brow. Too weak to fight it, Harry merely slumped against the bowl, reveling in the coolness of the marble against his cheek. The hand caressed his face lightly, smoothing back his bangs as the woman (it had to be, her hands were too dainty for a man's) knelt next to him and cooed in his ear.

"Shh, Harry, it will be alright. Can you stand? You shouldn't have gotten out of bed in the first place, you're still not well…" The woman helped him up, and led him back to his bed. Harry protested softly, mumbling against the sleep that had suddenly and quickly arrived. He wondered indolently if maybe she had spelled him, but ignored all of it as he fell into the bed, immediately curling up into himself as he grew hot and cold all at the same time.

"Oh, dear," she said, in a soft voice. "It seems those side effects haven't quite gone away yet."

"What side effects? From what?" Harry asked her.

"Shh, just ignore me, I'm babbling. Mistress Ty—er, the mistress said that you weren't to be moved for another week at the least, young Harry."

"Need to go back to…" for a moment, Harry's mind became numbingly clear and his mouth went as dry as though someone had stuffed cotton in it. "Hogwarts," he finished. For a moment, he had forgotten everything. The woman clucked laughingly to him, and as she tucked the covers around him he squeezed his eyes shut and forced himself to name everyone from Hogwarts and all of the Wizarding World as the woman spoke to him.

_Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, my best friends on earth. Hermione is a know it all; Ron is a little biased, but loyal to the end._

"If you need any help, we've got a house-elf you can call for. Just yell for service, or will him here."

"Will him?" Harry muttered, mentally reciting the rest of the Weasley clan with all their attributes, forcing himself not to retch again as he even named Percy.

"Yes. If you think about what you want hard enough, he'll come around with it. He's a little smart for a house-elf, though, and brings you extras if you're thinking about those subconsciously."

"He can read my mind?" _Dumbledore, meddling old fool of a Headmaster, Hagrid, caring Groundskeeper…_

"Not at all!" she laughed, and Harry thought that he liked it and had to try hard to remember where he had left off. _Flitwick…_ "As long as you're in this house as a guest, your mind is tied with his. He can't poke and prod through it, and you can't go through his. It's like a minor telepathic link that goes one-way, since all he hears are your orders and he can't say anything else. If a strong enough emotion floats to the top, than he'll feel it."

"That's…odd…" Harry was talking about the weight that had suddenly fallen on his chest. A dark curtain stole around the edges of his vision, and he looked a little blindly for the woman, relaxing only when she caught his hand in hers. "What's your name?"

She was silent for a moment, as though considering whether or not to tell him. But after a moment, she smiled, although he couldn't see it. "Nestea. Nestea Malfoy."

"I know…someone…with that name…" Harry snuffled into his pillow. "I really liked him…he was…nice t'me…for a while."

"Really? What was he called?"

There was a pause. _Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle…_ "Malfoy. That was what…I called him."

"His first name?" Nestea pressed. "I know he had one."

She waited, but she was to be disappointed. Harry had fallen asleep, and his fever had apparently returned. Nestea sighed and stooped to pick up his things.

"You're stupid if you think this will help you out."

She jumped, and then turned and scowled irritably. Leaning against the open door leading to the halls, Genevieve scowled right back. "Don't be prissy with me. I'm keeping your secret."

"As long as I keep yours," Nestea snapped back. "Don't think you can bribe me."

"Oh, I don't think. I know."

"I certainly don't doubt that first part."

Genevieve stiffened, and then thrust her chin out. "Fine. Be a snob. See if I stand up for you the next time Mistress Tynan wants to try and kill you."

"She wouldn't dare." Nestea touched her stomach. It was swollen, and she was pregnant. _Very_ pregnant. Slightly self-conscious, she drew the loose dress she was wearing around her belly even more. Genevieve noticed and smirked.

"You can't hide the baby. You've tried already, don't you see what happens? Look at this new predicament you're in now, little mistress."

"I'm just a maid," Nestea snapped. "A maid in this fucking hellhole."

"Language," tutted the succubus. "And besides, look behind you; there's a child sleeping in that bed. A sick child. You won't wake him, will you?"

"Aren't you just a child as well?" Nestea said softly. Genevieve's features darkened noticeably, and her beauty suddenly seemed off-balance as she snapped her fangs ferociously.

"Shut up, you. And get downstairs; do some work in the kitchen or something. I'll give the damned house-elf something else to do, but I don't want to see your face anymore."

The maid curtsied, and left. Genevieve glared at her retreating back in disgust, and glanced back at the bed where Harry lay sleeping. She had already decided he was cute, and she was starving for him.

"You'd better be worth it," she told him, and then walked out.

* * *

Bellatrix cocked her head to the side wearily, eyeing her mistress with slight fear. Tynan had been unusually buoyant since they'd captured Harry; so much so that she had let all her hair fall around her shoulders, pooling in waves as she also ignored her makeup. This, for Tynan, was a big step.

"I think," she said brightly, stepping lightly as she danced around the room. "That we should give young Harry a companion."

They were in Tynan's room. Genevieve had appeared moments ago to inform them about Harry's previous actions, but Tynan had not been deterred. "You say he hesitated before naming Hogwarts?" she had said. This was good. Absolutely perfect if what she thought was happening was happening.

"He is forgetting all about Hogwarts already, and _we_ cannot attempt to turn him to our way. We need someone we can control easily."

"Genevieve?" Bellatrix slid against the wall, feeling weary. She didn't like the succubus; it was, after all, she who had taken away her most precious puppet. "What are you going to have that slut do?"

"Not her. I have the feeling that Harry will not take to her. I've already had Tidget and Middy go down and get her."

Bellatrix realized suddenly what Tynan meant and narrowed her eyes. "You're bringing up the Lovegood child? Is she not dead?"

"No," Tynan said cheerfully. "She received the same treatment one would get in the case of a Dementor's kiss; in a sense, she is a husk of her former self, only the housing for her essence and soul."

"Which Genevieve swallowed."

"Exactly." Tynan's eyes glittered maliciously. "Which means that if her soul was to be returned, than she would merely become the mindless puppet you had wished her to be, Bellatrix. I shall relinquish her to you, if you like, but you must not hurt her in any way. Understand?"

The widow Black said nothing, but Tynan ignored her.

"Although I _will_ need her soul in the ceremony later," the lady Malfoy said thoughtfully. "We'll merely take it as a precaution; should anything change Harry's mind on that oh-so-important day, Luna Lovegood will be our insurance."

"I don't like you using her," Bellatrix said finally. "But if that's the way it has to be, then fine. Do I get to hurt the Potter boy at all?"

"No," Tynan said, a little sharply, but then she softened. "No, Bella, we cannot do anything to such an important pawn in my plan. You can, however, call dibs on anyone but my nephew. In fact, have a personal vendetta against all of Hogwarts, since you seem so bloodthirsty."

Bellatrix's eyes flashed with anger for a moment, but she was interrupted as Tidget and Middy appeared, carrying the prone form of Luna between them. Her wide blue eyes were opened, and her mouth formed a small 'o' of surprise. From the corner was a thin trickle of blood, which Tidget was apparently used to wiping off, as he did so now.

"Why is she bleeding?" Bellatrix asked angrily.

"It is a side-effect," Tynan replied airily. "She is a Seer, and of course, as such, we could not totally remove her soul. It is having quite a struggle not to float out of her, and this causes a little bit of internal bleeding. Not a big problem, though.

"Besides," the blonde said, as she got a vial out of her dresser. "We were going to awaken her soon anyways. This experience, such a near-death one, should be much more real to her than anything else, especially after all those months of imprisonment. I have no doubts whatsoever that her powers have awoken as well."

"You were planning this," Bellatrix said accusingly. "You wanted this to happen."

"Don't I plan everything?" Tynan kneeled and took the cork of the vial out, then tipped it into Luna's gaping mouth. There was a long silence in the room, before her body glowed a light hue of blue and white. Luna began to spasm, violently, and she drew in deep shuddering breaths.

Then the shrieking started.

* * *

Harry woke again the next day, feeling better. His headache was gone and he was sure his fever was as well. There was no dizziness or nausea about him, and as he slipped out of bed he noticed he could stand straight with no problems whatsoever.

Tentatively, Harry took a few steps, and rejoiced inwardly as he still felt fine. The Gryffindor rubbed a hand across his eyes. What to do next?

It was obvious he had to speak to whoever had him here and ask why. Frowning, Harry tried to remember how he had gotten here; it took him quite a while to conjure up images of a hunched figure under a tree, but that was it and he was starting to get a headache again.

First things first, the dark-haired boy picked at his clothing. Apparently, they had changed him only once, upon his arrival, and gotten rid of whatever other clothing he had. He felt disgusting, and wasted no time in entering the bathroom and running a bath.

As the water steamed up around him, Harry leaned back and sank a little into the warm liquid. He closed his eyes and thought once more; naming his friends, family, and those close to him in an almost repetitive fashion. He was so into it, he didn't hear the door creak open until it was too late.

"Harry!"

He screamed and backpedaled, succeeding only in slamming his head against the edge of the bathtub. Forgetting for a moment that someone was there, Harry rubbed ruefully at his head and repressed the tears that were sure to come.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so sorry! I was only trying to—oh, Gods, I'm so sorry!"

By now he had recognized the voice. "No, Nestea, it's alright. It's my fault for—um…anyway, it's okay."

The maid sighed in relief. "Good. Well, I just wanted to tell you that Mistress told me to set some clothes up for you on the bed as you might be waking up today, and that you're to meet someone later on in the big Dining Hall."

"Am I meeting the mistress?" Harry asked, and was surprised when Nestea shook her head.

"No, she's away on business with the master. You're meeting their—well, you could say adopted daughter, but she's mainly a guest we—picked up, such as yourself. Since it's just you, me and her in the house, we've got some free time for about a week before anyone comes back."

"Really?" Harry said, blushing and a little distracted. Nestea followed his gaze and realized he was staring at her stomach.

"Oh, you've never seen a pregnant woman before?" she said teasingly.

"Er…"

Nestea made a little noise in the back of her throat and then laughed. "It's quite alright. I'm in my last trimester. The baby's due in July."

"Great!" Harry said, flashing a smile at her. Nestea laid a towel across the sink and smiled back.

"You're so charming. I'll leave this here, I've got other chores to do."

Harry frowned. "But you're pregnant. Don't they give you a break?"

Nestea shook her head. "I charm the stomach not to show and make it weightless as well. I don't like casting it when we don't have company, but it does mean I'll have a bit of trouble if my chores involve bending."

"I'll help you," Harry offered up immediately.

"Oh, no, it's okay. You just worry about yourself, Master Potter. And remember, you can summon the house-elf for anything, okay?"

Harry nodded and watched her leave. For a Malfoy, she was unerringly obedient and kind. He wondered why, and then dismissed the thought, labeling it as one of life's most vague mysteries. The Gryffindor soaked for a few minutes, and got out of the tub.

When Harry entered the room, towel wrapped around him, he was startled to see that all his things had been fixed neatly. It took him a moment to remember that, of course, Nestea was a wizard and could have just as easily magicked them all this way. Sighing gratefully, he started walking towards his trunk, and then stopped.

Why _were_ his things here?

If these people had merely found him, as they'd claimed, wouldn't they have given him back to Hogwarts? Harry fingered the scar nervously. It wasn't as though they couldn't recognize him…and even if they didn't realize whom he was or where he came from, how did they get to his things?

The black-haired boy shook his head and groaned. What a lot of questions to ask himself _after_ he'd befriended the maid, taken a bath and generally got more comfortable. If he wanted answers, though, he'd better ask them fully clothed.

Harry moved over to his trunk and pried it open. His eyes widened in shock. None of his clothes were inside; they had all been replaced by richly colored and fine silken clothes, some fancy, others casual but still better than anything he'd ever even _seen_.

Feeling distinctly uncomfortable, he shut his eyes and grabbed at the first outfit he could find, and then opened them. It was a loose shirt with baggy sleeves and a high, neatly collared neck. Black slacks accompanied them, and for a moment Harry contemplated taking the vest that was obviously supposed to accompany them, but decided against it as he was taking these clothes off as soon as possible anyway.

Fifteen minutes later, he was dressed and had decided that Nestea was probably not going to come and get him anyway. Harry felt loathe to just walk around the house, and wished desperately that he at least had a guide.

"Master wants to get somewhere?"

Harry turned, half-expecting to see Dobby, and did a double take when he did. No, this house-elf was obviously older, judging by it wrinkles and the weary eyes.

"Er…I need to go to the—big Dining Hall." He caught himself just in time; he had been about to say the Great Hall, and then he wondered why he hadn't wanted to.

"Follow Tidget, please, Master." Harry did as the elf requested, and as they exited the room and walked down a hallway lined with grim-faced portraits he gave a silent prayer of forgiveness to Hermione.

He glanced around in barely disguised disgust, though, at the sneering faces that muttered at him under their breaths. They passed by several doors, all of them locked, but as Harry turned around a corner he heard the sound of a lock clicking. Checking quickly to see that Tidget was well ahead of him, he doubled back and peered around.

A man was standing with his back to the Gryffindor, wearing formal attire and running a finger through slightly spiky black hair. Harry wondered vaguely if this was the master, and made as if to step forward, but something drew him back—painfully.

Tidget was digging his nails into Harry's arms, and his eyes were wide with fear. "Master Potter must _not_ disturb anyone! He must follow orders, says the mistresses! He cannot wander!" the house-elf hissed the last words, and then bowed and began pushing Harry down the hallways. Stunned, Harry let him.

When they reached the Dining Hall, Tidget bowed stiffly and motioned for Harry to go in with a curt nod. Feeling a little as though he'd lost what could've been a possible friend, Harry took a breath, and pushed open the door.

* * *

Hogwarts was, once more, in disarray.

Dumbledore stood imposingly in the seventh year Gryffindor boy's dorms, staring at the blood-spattered bed that used to be Harry's with narrowed eyes. Next to him were, of course, the seventh-year Gryffindor boys, Hermione, Ginny, and several Slytherins.

"So?" Ron asked, voice a little edgy. "What is it?"

Next to him, McGonagall shushed him. Ron jumped; he hadn't heard her come in, but now she swept through the room with an air of practice. "We've told all the students to report back to their common rooms. Their heads of houses are with them."

Dumbledore nodded, but his gaze did not stray from the bed. "You say you didn't touch it at all? None of you did?"

"No sir," Seamus said, serious for once as he shook his head. "I get up first, and I usually pull back his curtains and wake him, but we were mad at him, like we told you before. So I didn't and when I was done, I went over to shake Dean awake."

"But I didn't want to," the dark-skinned boy broke in. "And I knew Ron and Neville weren't going to wake up so I threw something at Harry's bed, hoping he'd get up, but we didn't even hear a snuffle. Seamus walked over and looked in and started screaming, and he woke us up properly."

"Did he come back to his room last night?" McGonagall wanted to know.

The boys exchanged glances, and then looked down at their feet. Seamus shoved Ron forward, and the Weasley blushed. "No, Professor. But he probably just didn't want to talk to us, and we thought maybe he'd come in while we were sleeping, maybe."

"But he didn't."

Ron nodded wearily. "But if we had known we would've done something! All his clothes are gone and his things! Even Hedwig's not in the Owlery!"

"That," Dumbledore said quietly, "is because she is in here." Every occupant of the room, including one, pale-faced, blond figure, shot him a look. The Headmaster knelt down so that he was eye-level with the bed, and placed his hands under the sheets. After a moment, he drew out a small, bedraggled figure with feathers of downy white sticking out awkwardly. The white was merely matches, as everything else was dyed a deep crimson.

"Oh, Hedwig," Hermione breathed. "She must have put up a fight."

Dumbledore held the owl closely, and took his wand from his pocket. He whispered a few words under his breath, and watched as the blood disappeared, and air ruffled the owl's feathers into place. There was another pause, and then Hedwig's beak clacked irritably as she began breathing again.

Blaise, who had been quiet up until then, spoke up. "Can you ask her what happened to Harry?"

"She is not well," Dumbledore said, stroking the bird's feathers. Hedwig flapped her wings weakly, and didn't stir after that. "But it is obvious, then, that someone came by here and when they attempted to take her, she fought them. This is her blood, not Harry's."

"But where _is_ Harry?" Ron demanded to know.

Dumbledore shrugged, almost nonchalantly. "That is something we do not know. Maybe he left before this, or even after, and didn't mean to worry you."

"But he _wouldn't_," Hermione hissed vehemently. "Harry wouldn't do a thing like that."

"Very smart, Ms. Granger."

The occupants of the room turned to the doorway, and not one eyes was left un-widened. In the doorway stood Snape, both arms restraining those of Rabastan Lestrange. The white-haired man was smirking.

"What is the meaning of this, Severus?" McGonagall said angrily. "And are you not supposed to be with your house?"

"Show them," Snape said, jabbing Rabastan with his wand. The man smiled and shrugged, shifting so that the short sleeves of his shirt moved up to reveal a burning mark.

"Voldemort's?" Dumbledore had crossed the room in seconds and began to examine Rabastan's arm closely. It was not Voldemort's mark; as expected, when the Dark Lord had fallen his mark had faded away. But on Rabastan's arm was a droplet of some sort of liquid that alternately glowed with either a red or blue hue to look like a blood or teardrop. "Is this what Tynan uses to call you?"

"She would never stoop so low," Rabastan said mockingly, and then observed the room, keen eyes taking in the blood and bedraggled owl especially. He nodded approvingly. "So he's gone, then. Very good."

There was a sudden wind in the room, and no one could bring themselves to believe what they saw next. Snape had been pushed aside, shoved almost rudely into the wall, whilst Rabastan himself was actually. Draco had him by the scruff of his neck, and was glaring. Rabastan glared back evenly.

"Hullo, Draconis."

"What do you know?" Draco snarled. "I'll disembowel you to find out."

"Pity. I rather liked my stomach."

"Shut up!" Draco pushed back so that Rabastan's head knocked sharply against the wall. McGonagall moved towards them, but Dumbledore muttered something to the distressed professor.

"Why are you so angry?" Rabastan asked, almost curiously. "Wasn't it you and all your friends and these Gryffindors here who were trying to drive him away?"

"We weren't!" Ginny cried out, suddenly teary. "We weren't at all! It was just an argument!"

"Ah," Rabastan said, turning his gaze to her. "An argument. Well, I've had arguments turn deadly before. Anything can escalate into anything bigger, and worse. Why is an argument between friends different?"

"And how would you know? I'd loathe to think you had any," Snape scowled as he stood, and fixed Draco with a look. "Put him down, Malfoy, he's staining the wall."

But Draco ignored him, and gave Rabastan a withering look. "You know something."

The man shrugged. "I know many things. My name. Your name."

"Harry's location."

"That," Rabastan said, shaking his head, "is one of those things that I'm _not_ supposed to know."

"But you do," Draco said, managing to sound equally nonchalant. "And you're going to tell me, right?"

"Unfortunately, I know where he _could_ have been. I highly doubt that keen mind of your aunt's will keep him there. She's probably spirited him away already."

Draco swore and made a shamefully crass gesture with his free hand, and let Rabastan fall to the ground in a heap. The white-haired man didn't seem in the least bit perturbed, and instead, smiled rather childishly at those around him.

"She's probably going to do something to him to turn him into a puppet. That's her style. Or maybe she'll not do anything to him at all." Rabastan closed his eyes. "I suspect she's going to use the girl, what's her fancy, Adorewell?"

"Lovegood," Draco muttered absently. "And what do you mean by that?"

Rabastan leaned forward, and rested his chin in his hands. "What do you think I mean? What would break precious Harry more than a broken friend? It's not that hard to figure out, if you're as close to him as you all think you are."

Silence.

Silence and all the more.

* * *

Somewhere, in a distant forest, a figure stirred.

And then stirred some more.

"Damnit, let go! Let go let go let go!" The figure was struggling to get free from overhanging branches, and was apparently having some trouble.

Down below, a man sighed. "Don't try too hard, you'll hurt yourself, you bumpkin."

"BUMPKIN!"

"Don't take it seriously, Christ."

Quiet.

"Don't tell me you're doing this again."

Quiet.

The man rolled his eyes and muttered a few words under his breath. In a moment, the figure fell on top of him, succeeding in knocking the breath out of them both.

"I swear, you've gained weight," the man muttered.

"Don't make me hit you."

The man chuckled softly to himself, and pushed the figure off of him. In the dim light of the forest canopy, it was obvious that this was another man, if not younger. "You're talking to me again."

"GAH!"

Under the shade of a large tree, Remus Lupin wiped away tears from his eyes as he fell into apoplectic laughter. By the time he was finished, the figure had moved away and was sulking in a corner.

"Just like old times, eh?" Remus said softly.

The man opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. His body seemed to convulse, and he clutched at his stomach. For a moment, he seemed to shimmer out of existence, but then he was solid again.

"We've got to move faster," Remus observed. "How long do you think you have?"

"About two weeks or so."

Remus cursed. "We shouldn't have spent so long waiting for you to recover. I could have carried you."

"Right. And every full moon, you would've done the same only in your jaws. And it would be easier because I'd be cut up into travel easy pieces, right?"

"Don't joke."

A pause. "Sorry."

Remus ran a hand through his graying hair and scanned their surroundings. "So. To the wench's castle, how long do you think?"

The man immediately brightened. "Where Harry is? Perfection. Pure perfection. I'd say a few days at the most. Can you believe we can't use magic?"

"We can," Remus corrected him. "Just not…noticeable magic."

* * *

Harry closed his eyes.

He was three, and in the Dursley's backyard. They were gone, at some party or another. He was sitting on the back stairs, hand shading his eyes against the bright sun.

Something flew in front of him; a butterfly, one of those rare and beautiful ones that was made up of billions of different colors and would appear right before something really good happened. Expectantly, Harry folded his hands politely in his lap.

There was silence all around him.

Harry hated the quiet, but he kept his mouth shut and wisely leaned back to conserve energy. Before him, the butterfly danced just out his reach, fluttering wildly and creating enough wind for him to feel it. The insect landed on the railing of the stairs, letting its wings flicker every so often before doing a sort of hop skip, as though it were trying to boogie with the best of them.

Harry giggled, and then his eyes widened.

The butterfly had launched itself into the air, and seemed to be suspended for a moment. Harry held his breath. Here was the good thing—

And then nothing.

The butterfly fell to the ground, motionless, wings crinkled like a used paper bag. Harry reached out a finger, and then drew his arm back in. His tiny body crumpled, and he scrambled backwards, away from the dead butterfly, away from the crushed dreams, away from whatever it was that had been holding him in a spell for so long.

It was dark outside, too, one of those nights that had people asking easily if it was possible, was there a house available so they could live in this perfect little suburbia. It was one of those nights where Harry was in his cupboard; only today he was suddenly claustrophobic and had retired instead to the kitchen, legs hanging off the tall stool as he watched the sun set through the window.

Beside him the phone started ringing; he flinched at the sudden intrusion of noise, and then let his head slip into his arms. The front door clicked open, and he slipped off the stool with an ease that came from long practices. Silently, he padded towards the backyard again, desperate for a few moments away from the cupboard, and found instead the butterfly, looking desolate and still unmoving.

Frozen, the young boy watched as a wind stirred up the leaves, moving them in graceful cadences all across the ground. The butterfly's wings twitched in the breeze and then its whole body. For a moment, it looked alive, and then it simply seemed like what it was; a bedraggled doll, a shell of a former soul, blown away by a summer breeze.

And that, it seemed, was that.

* * *

Luna reminded Harry of the butterfly quite a lot.

He knew right away there was something wrong with her, from the moment he stepped in and stopped to stare, as all she did was nod in his direction, and almost as an afterthought, softly greet him. Her hair was piled up into soft curls that framed her face and brought out her blue eyes nicely, although her normal woebegone fashion sense had taken a complete turnaround. She was wearing a low-necked powder blue dress and, from what Harry could see, ankle boots of the same color.

Ms. Lovegood, Harry wanted to say, you're not yourself. You're a shell, of a butterfly that wanted to dance for a little boy on a summer night. But then he shook himself for being melodramatic and walked over to Luna, taking a seat in the chair next to her.

"Luna?"

"Hello, Harry," she said, and then smiled. It wasn't her smile, though, because if this were really Luna she would have always been smiling. "How are you? Have they treated you nicely?"

What, Harry wondered, did they do to her? Already he could tell it would be hopeless to ask, hopeless to shake her until she toppled and gave him an answer while staring up at him from the cold floor.

"Yes," he said, just as stiffly. "Erm, do you know if I could leave, Luna?"

"No one leaves."

Harry blinked. "Okay…is there anyone else here I could talk to?" Maybe he could convince someone to take him someplace safe, or at least send a letter for him. He wondered idly where Hedwig was, and then had to blink back tears. They were furious ones, though.

"No one but the maid." Luna hesitated. She had been told not to say anything of Tynan, Bellatrix, or any of the other Death Eaters who visited often. She also couldn't say anything about Hogwarts or about Nestea. But there was one person exempt from all this… "There is Genevieve."

"Genevieve?"

Luna nodded. "She's really—odd. But if you like, I could have you meet her. Oh, and ignore the fangs."

"Fangs?" A sudden image of Draco smiling in his direction shook Harry a little. He shrugged it off and smiled back, disarmingly. "Wait, forget it. I don't think I want to know. Could I really—meet her?" Maybe she would be sane.

"I'm already here."

Harry turned, surprised. The door hadn't opened, he knew, and yet there she was; Genevieve. Her lithe body was shown off by the rather tight camisole she was wearing, over the long black skirt that widened out at the end, and her long brown hair was let loose, flowing. Tucked into the strands were black roses. She was also barefoot. Understandably, Harry was a little in shock.

"Hello," Genevieve said. She took a good look at him and was a little scattered. There was something about him that told her she'd better step carefully, so she dropped the flaming temptress act and skipped happily over to them, dropping herself into the seat with an audible _thump_.

Luna gave her a look of dislike, and Genevieve thumbed her nose at the other girl. "She doesn't like me," she said to Harry, although she needn't.

"Harry Potter," he said apologetically.

"Genevieve. I don't care to tell my last name."

"If you have one," Luna muttered.

Harry cast her a curious glance, but wisely remained silent. Maybe for too long, because now there was an awkward air around the three of them. "Er…is there anything to do around here?"

"Well, of course!" Genevieve smiled widely and grabbed his hand, then Luna's. "Come on, let's go, let's go!"

As she dragged them out of the door, a figure melted out from the shadows. Tynan blinked in the sudden light, and grinned widely. "She is an excellent actress."

Nestea appeared beside her, only the maid had used a hidden door. "I would expect her to be. Poor child…actually, poor children. All three of them."

"You're daft," Tynan said, almost accusingly. "She's a succubus. Of course she's not going to feel anything. She was born that way, a deal for a deal. She owes me several debts, for every time I've covered for her when the deaths got a little too frequent and sloppy."

"Why are you saving the girls?" Nestea asked worriedly.

Tynan turned to her, blue eyes cold. "Why do you think? Every king needs a queen, don't they? The one that pleases me most will get their chance, and the other—Harry will learn to keep two women happy."

Nestea shivered. "That's disgusting."

"No," Tynan answered, retreating into the shadows. "It's life."

* * *

Theodore Nott passed away in his sleep, peacefully.

Madame Pomfrey told the shell-shocked students that he had never truly recovered, probably, from whatever spell it was Tynan had thrown at him. She was surprised when he had even woken up, but that should have been the end of it anyway.

"She must have used a huge amount of magic or something, and sapped energy from him for it," Pomfrey told them. Mediwitches had already been there and gone, carting away Theo's dead body as though it were nothing.

"How is that possible?" Blaise asked quietly. He was unusually serious, but as Draco was now tight-lipped and ashen and Pansy seemed to have collapsed in serious grief, he was the only one who could speak for them. "She's nowhere near here."

"I have a theory," Pomfrey told him. "Dumbledore is already looking into it for me, but I think that she's got some sort of binding spell injected into her blood."

"Blood magic and Dark magic don't mix. Anyone who tries dies," Blaise recited, from memory. Madame Pomfrey nodded gravely.

"That's the way it should be, but she's got it. If her magic touches you, you're bound to her whether you like it or not. It depends on your will, I think, to see how strongly you'll be bound to her. That's probably why Theodore survived for so long. And Pansy, probably."

It sounded plausible. Pansy had always been remarkably strong-willed, never caring much about what others thought so long as she held herself in the highest regard. She, at least, would not be in much trouble.

"Wait." Draco said, surprising Blaise. "So that's why she doesn't get so tired easily? Every single time she uses magic, she draws it from every person who's so much as been exposed to her magic?"

"But that's—that's all of us," Blaise said. "I mean, just being exposed?"

"We're not sure," Madame Pomfrey said gently. "But yes, that is probably what's happening. And judging by her past conquests, she's got a quite a lot of power to draw on. I think she may have been storing the powers from her victims years ago, and molding them to fit her desires."

"She's unstoppable, with all that power then," Blaise said desolately. "And she's going to kill us from hundreds of miles away. Perfect. I am going to die young and unknown."

"Blaise, shut up," Draco told him, and then turned to Madame Pomfrey. "And suppose she did something like that, only worse, to Harry? Why didn't anyone check up on that?"

"Because we weren't sure, Master Malfoy," Pomfrey told him. "We have no idea what could have happened, or else we would have investigated it even more. Trust me on that."

"I," Draco said, shaking, "cannot trust anyone on anything. Not anymore. It's too late for that." He spun on his heel, grabbing Blaise's hand and dragging the boy with him as he stalked out of the room.

"I hate this place," he hissed, once they were in the hallway, but Blaise was looking at him with keen eyes.

"You're going after them."

"Of course I am."

"You're taking us with you."

"Of course I'm _not_."

"Draco," Blaise said, "you know that I could list a billion and three reasons as to why you should take us along anyway, but I won't. Go on by yourself, you know what'll happen. We'll follow and without your awesome leadership skills, be killed probably in the courtyard."

Draco regarded him silently, and then shoved the Italian wizard away. "I hate you so much, and yet it pains me to have to leave you."

Blaise smirked at the dramatic line. Draco was taking them, no doubt.

* * *

There was a blood-red hue to the sunset that night, and Draco almost watched it alone. Fortunately (or not so much) for him, he was joined by Hermione on top of a lonely tower on the east side.

"What?" he said irritably.

"I'm sorry," she said, evenly. "We didn't mean to blame you but we were having a sort of argument and—"

"I know."

Hermione looked surprised, and Draco cracked a smile at her. "I have my sources, Granger. I suggest that you keep that in mind."

"You're going to look for him."

This time it was Draco's turn to look shocked, and she smiled just as brightly back at him. "I have my sources as well, Malfoy. My sight and my smarts. It's not that hard to tell. I have one request."

"I won't sing anything by Erin Troll," Draco joked.

"No," Hermione said, "and I won't force you. But take us along. Just—Ron, me, and Ginny. I know already that you're planning to take along your friends. Can't you take along Harry's?"

Draco sighed. "All of you are so persistent."

"But we're going?"

He nodded.

Yeah, sure, his brain said. Bring along the cavalry. You know, the one with trainers instead of combat boots and pullovers instead of uniforms and bubblegum instead of tobacco. Oh, yeah. _Those_ troops.

* * *

So I've had this sitting in my computer for a while now but then stupid FF. netshizzert wouldn't let me open it and send it off.

I didn't type before because Solizlet is distressed and I was on Chocolate and Movies and Hugs Duty, because now that Pete Wentz (who is her idol!) has been so shamefully provocative she is all alone.

And I had testing, but that was about it.

So, mein liebchens, how art thou? nods Good, good, that's nice to hear. I had a dream the other night, where I was tackled from behind from what I knew were angry fans of Harry Potter and I didn't get why, but then I realized I looked like JK Rowling and that I had written the last book with a Harry/Hagrid pairing. This, of course, woke me up quickly and sent me typing. :)

Ah, well, that's it. Review and make me less sleepy...I need to take a nap. Which I think I shall do now, hoorah for free time. Have fun reading, luvvies.

* * *


	23. Hold Me Down And Don't Forget To Cry

Disclaimer: Not mine, remember about propaganda?

* * *

_I wanna heal  
I wanna feel  
What I thought was never real  
I wanna let go of the pain I've felt so long  
I wanna heal  
I wanna feel  
Like I'm close to something real  
I wanna find something I've wanted all along  
Somewhere I belong. _

-Somewhere I Belong- Linkin Park

* * *

**hold me down and don't forget to cry**

**issalee

* * *

**

It had only been two weeks, but already Harry was adjusting quickly.

He learned the new Luna inside and out. She always disappeared into a small room she never let anyone inside, which he suspected led to somewhere else, whenever she wanted to be alone. She was quiet, prone to mumbling, and had burst of melancholy at odd times.

But the old Luna Lovegood was still there.

The first (and last) time he'd finally managed to persuade Genevieve to take them outside, it had been only last Wednesday. The succubus had given in easily enough; she showed all the signs of a growing crush of immense proportions on Harry.

She had taken them out the back, sneaking past Nestea and through a large, ornate door. It was beautiful, outside; the rolling hills and green, lush land was perfect, unmarred by any building but the old castle they were inside of.

Both Harry and Genevieve had been surprised when Luna had smiled widely and kicked off her shoes, letting her hair flow loose from its tight braid long enough for her to begin dancing.

Harry watched, amused, as Genevieve's wild and flirty nature led her to dance as well, both of the girls shrieking and laughing gaily as the wind carried their exaltations all across Britain and the Emerald Isle.

They hadn't gotten back until it was dark outside, and, luckily for them, Nestea had not noticed their absence.

It was, Harry reflected, one of the better moments in his time spent here. By now he was sure both he and Luna were prisoners, and he'd trade his wand and all his wizarding knowledge back in if Bellatrix Lestrange, Tynan Malfoy and Lucius Malfoy were not lurking around somewhere.

He wasn't so sure about Genevieve, who seemed so comfortable in the dark and moody hallways, it was as though she'd been around them all her life. Like at this moment, when she was skipping happily down one in which the candles had blown out. Harry was following her tentatively, wishing desperately that he had been allowed Tidget to guide him, or even Middy, clumsy as she was.

"Are you sure she knows where we're going?" Harry whispered under his breath. Luna, who was striding purposefully to his right, merely nodded. "She wouldn't dare lead us astray, not while _you're_ around," she said, a little bitterly.

Harry had learned to ignore this as well. He had the feeling Luna's own feelings were just anxiousness and worry, not anything like what Genevieve felt for him.

"Harry!" Nestea had opened a door, flooding the hallway with light. She narrowed her eyes at the succubus standing innocently in front of her, who had quickly changed from the clingy black dress she had been wearing to a pair of giant overalls and a hooded sweatshirt.

"I love you," Genevieve burbled. "Have I ever told you that I loved you?" Behind her back, she waved Luna and Harry on. The two smiled and waved at Nestea, who looked a little frazzled as she tried to move away from the succubus's charms.

Harry and Luna broke into a run halfway down the hall, and collapsed in a pile in front of the door they had been searching for. Luna smiled breathlessly as she looked up at the door. "Well, here it is. Big drawing room, where we are not allowed to play in."

Harry adjusted his glasses and peered at her intently. "Play in? I'd think we were big enough to call it 'dating' now…"

Luna wrinkled her nose and shoved him. She stood up and brushed the dust off her dress, and then froze unexpectedly. Harry stood as well and tried to ask what was wrong, but she shushed him and took his hand.

"We've got to go, there are people inside," she hissed. "Not good people, either."

"What?" Harry said sarcastically. "There are some good ones here after all? Luna, is it the Master and Mistress?"

"No."

Harry sighed. "Yes. It is. And I really do think that if you're done trying to hide whatever it is you want from me, I would like to personally thank them for saving my life." So saying, he wrenched his hand from Luna's and pulled open the door.

* * *

Harry had been expecting to see these people. He was prepared for their reactions, the drawn wands, and maybe his death, whether accidental or not. Around the same time that he realized Hedwig was not coming back, he had also realized that there was no way on Earth he could ever possibly break out of here, and had resigned himself to fate.

So when he entered the room, ready to die and get it over with, what he least expected the barely aware adults to move slightly, making space for him on the couch. Bellatrix Lestrange was sitting at a chair, looking oddly sane at the moment. Her dark hair was curled into ringlets that fell to cover her eyes, and the blood red corset-dress she was wearing reminded Harry of a Vampyre. He frowned, thinking that there was something else he should be thinking.

Strangely, he couldn't muster up any hate towards her. Or, in fact, towards anyone sitting in front of him. It was another one of those spells, he thought worriedly. The ones that were coming more and more, where he forgot names and faces. The mantra he had repeated since Nestea had woken him up two weeks back was still running through his mind, but he had totally forgotten the names of his professors. Dumbledore was still there, but fading quickly. He had forgotten his dorm mates.

_Ronald Bilius Weasley, Hermione Jane Granger_, he repeated firmly to himself. He may have forgotten much of his adventures with the two as well, but there was no way he would actually forget _them_.

"Harry," Tynan Malfoy said throatily.

Oh. He had also forgotten he was standing in the room with them, still, with a contemplating look on his face.

"Why don't you sit?" she gestured to the spot next to Lucius. On Lucius's right side was the man Harry had seen his first day awake; Antonin Dolohov, he thought, relieved that he remembered.

"Sit?" he repeated innocently. "I'd rather not. Sitting around murderers upsets my palette."

Tynan laughed. "Such a dear, sweet child you are. Harry, do you remember Bellatrix?"

He nodded. What were they getting at? Bellatrix stood suddenly, and Harry took a step back. He ran into Luna, however, and stiffened as she pushed him away and wordlessly headed for Bellatrix, who opened her arms and embraced her as though they were sisters.

"Luna?" Harry whispered, eyes growing wide. He spun around to glare at Tynan. "What the hell did you do to her? It's like you've sucked her soul out!"

"Ooh," the lady Malfoy said, clapping. "Very perceivable, Harry, I'm proud!"

"Shut up," he hissed irritably at her. Harry rubbed at his forehead, feeling a headache in the process of arriving. He concentrated instead on Tynan, ignoring Bellatrix, who had sat down and pulled Luna to kneel on the floor beside her, and Lucius and Antonin, who were returning the favor and having a conversation amongst them. Tynan smiled obligingly.

"This is not a showdown between the both of us, Harry," she said, smile disappearing quite quickly. "It's just you against the world."

"What the bloody hell does that mean?" Harry said quietly. He pressed a hand to his scar, which was beginning to throb. He remembered vaguely that this only happened when Voldemort had been around, and he hadn't felt it in so long it took a while for him to register it for what it was.

"Come here," Tynan said, and then, ignoring her own request, she stood and crossed the room so quickly Harry had no time to do anything but flinch as she laid a cool hand on his cheek. "Yes," she whispered.

"Yes what?" Harry said back, in the same quiet voice. He imagined he heard the door opening behind him, but he heard no new voices join the conversation, and assumed it was Genevieve entering. He wondered what she would do.

"Harry, what did I just say? I have found that I'm right," she said, lifting the hand only to trace his scar. Harry shivered. "I could give you so much, Harry. Forget riches and power, I realize it's not what you want. You know, I could have all the pressure stop. Every moment of your life that you have faltered and made a mistake, I can erase. No one need remember. I'll take away the people who would do nothing but hurt you, darling Harry. I'd raise you as my own."

The Gryffindor clutched at his head. "NO," he said, loudly. "Get _out_ of my head, get out get out get _OUT_!"

There was a small noise of protest and he whirled around to see Nestea, being restrained by Genevieve, who was looking unusually worried. "Don't interfere, stupid maid, you won't be able to do anything."

"You too?" Harry said softly. He made as though to reach for his wand, and then remembered he didn't have it. A hand turned him around to face Tynan again, and he became more and more aware of the intense silence pressing around him as she leaned her forehead against his. This time, when Harry shivered, it was more because of the intimacy the gesture suggested than anything. Someone else had done the same thing with him, in a hallway, under the shade of thousands of feathers…

"Forget him," Tynan cooed, "forget him and come with me, Harry. Do you remember your parents?"

_James and Lily Potter._

"You had none. They left you. They killed themselves, because they refused to join the one man who could have given you life. They would rather have risked your life than safely surrendering. I enjoyed killing them, Harry."

"Did you," the boy whispered, "bring them back? After the Avada?"

The lady Malfoy laughed. "Of course not, no one can. But you let down your defenses long enough for me to infiltrate your mind. Sudden shock does that. I merely formed an image you could remember, darling, darling Harry."

"Don't call me…darling," Harry gasped. He suddenly felt very dizzy.

"It's too early," Lucius spoke at last. "His mind will not be read so easily. What are you trying to do, sister?"

"He is ready," Tynan said, still murmuring soothingly. "I'm going to extract the rest of his memories. This is the training period, Lucius. I do not think I will need you very much for this."

"You don't _think_ is right, Tynan," Lucius sneered and stood up. "I am the new Dark Lord, not you, whatever you may think."

"You are weak," Tynan said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. Harry stepped back, taking his chances, but she didn't seem to notice as she turned to her brother. "How many times have I told you, Lucius? You seem to actually care for your son as though he is a human being, and as though he will eventually come back to you. It won't happen. This boy, standing in front of me, has poisoned his mind already. Nothing you do will ever make Draco come back to you, absolutely nothing, and it's all this boys' fault!"

Her eyes were blazing as she spoke, and now Tynan seemed positively excited. She raised an arm and pointed at her older brother, who immediately froze in his spot, cool eyes still regarding her appraisingly. There was the crackling of obvious magic in the air, and soon it became visible; like lighting, spreading across the arms of Tynan, spilling across the carpet, flooding the room with light, and blinding the occupants as she spoke more excitedly.

The words spilled from her mouth like water from a pitcher, as did the magic. Lucius watched in horror as it attached itself to his legs, golden strand by golden strand, wrapping around them and effectively rendering him motionless.

When his survival instinct kicked in, Harry turned around and prepared himself to take a running leap. Instead, he found he couldn't move himself either. He looked down and a small moan left his mouth as the golden magic wound up his legs, around his torso and his arms. He opened his mouth to scream and nearly gagged as the crackling magic moved into his mouth and down his throat, settling in his stomach like new warmth.

"I will _kill_ that boy!" Tynan shrieked in a high voice. "I will _kill_ Draco Malfoy, for all the trouble he has caused me, and if Harry Potter must die in the process then so help me _I will kill him myself as well_! And you might be my brother but you are a pawn!"

She whirled around and pointed to all the occupants of the room in turn, eyes narrowing as her essence wrapped itself around them too. "You are _all_ pawns! I will use you no matter what you would like, and I will kill you whenever I want! Your only goal is to fulfill my wishes! Do you hear? My wishes, my wishes, MINE!"

Harry's eyes rolled in the back of his head and he pitched forward, catching himself in time to just fall to his knees. There was a strange new sensation in his body, spreading rapidly.

_Hermione Jane Granger, Ronald Bilius Weasley_ he thought frantically, and then panicked as he saw, in his mind's eye, the names being erased letter by precious letter.

"No," he sobbed, and a scream tore itself from his throat as images went too. A face, pale and thin, a smile, lithe hands and beautiful wings, memories, both good and bad, all ripped from him. He screamed again, tears streaming down his face as he watched Sirius fade from his psyche, his parents folding into themselves, Remus Lupin crackling away, his friends, the Weasleys, all the years at Hogwarts, Voldemort.

"Remember the Muggles!" a voice cried, just as he saw his years with the Dursleys leaving as well. "Only the punishments! I want everything bad, all of them!"

And the memories came pouring back, but now Harry was only crying, feeling physically ill as Ron shouted at him, ignored him, Hermione leaving him to his own devices, the last few days he had spent before coming here, and the terrible, terrible days he had spent after Draco had—had…

And then it all stopped.

Harry fell to the ground, clutching at the rug and staring at the grainy wood, silent while his brain digested its newly rearranged order. The golden magic slowly seeped back to Tynan, and everyone slumped back, exhausted. Everyone, that was, but Lucius, who remained standing, eyes glazed over and a thin band of the crackling energy around his head like a crowning circlet.

They all watched, no one daring to breath, when Harry stood shakily, chest heaving and eyes till tearing. He looked at his hands as though he'd never seen them before, stared at them hard like he could change them and their owner.

Finally, he looked up and glanced at each of the people occupying the room, lingering on Bellatrix's face for a long moment, and then Lucius's, and finally, Tynan's. She smiled winningly at him.

Nestea, who had been somewhat composed up until then, brought a hand up to her mouth. The woman didn't even appear frazzled after that awesome display of power, and now Harry, poor Harry…

Was taking quick steps to Tynan, who opened her arms and embraced him as though he were her son.

"Yes," she said quietly, running her fingers through his hair. "You just couldn't resist, could you, Harry. No worries, I shall treat you fine."

He sniffed into her dress, and clutched at her like a child at his mother's skirts. Tynan stroked his head, lulling him gently into a semi-sleepy state. She looked up sharply at Nestea, who reeled back a little.

"Get Middy to escort Antonin back to his room. Have Tidget bring Lucius to his; make sure neither of them wander. And you, wench, bring the rubbish back to their room." She inclined her head slightly to Luna and Bellatrix, who both seemed undisturbed by her derogatory terms. Luna, however, was glaring coldly at the floor, as though she wasn't sure whether she should be mad at it or not.

Harry suddenly sagged totally, and Tynan held onto him. "He's tired…I shall take him to his room. Be sure," she said finally, looking at Genevieve, "that you get the message across to his friends that I have him."

The succubus nodded, and vanished.

All was quiet.

* * *

Draco had not meant to wait so long before moving out, but there was the matter of alerting the apparently large amount of people he was taking, although he'd been firm with his decision of making sure Finnegan, Longbottom, and Thomas didn't come along. Carina had designated herself as Official Purveyor Over The Stupid Boys and stayed behind, but Draco was still unhappy. He went so far as to even suggest that Weasley stay behind too but at _that_ they stayed firm, so he was forced to demand that Ginny stay as well.

"Shut up," she muttered forcibly, for the umpteenth time. They were settling onto the brooms they'd borrowed (stolen) from the Slytherin quidditch team, considering no one would be using them anyway. Draco had the broom he was suddenly very thankful Blaise and Carina had gotten for him.

Ginny was very adamant against Draco's so called "childish and idiotic" decisions. He was very hurt, considering the fact that not only was she a girl and she was lecturing him, but she was a girl, a Weasley, and one of his BEST FRIENDS lecturing him.

Very embarrassing indeed.

"Because of you," he muttered, still upset, "we had to wait a whole three days for all of you to pack and decided who would come and all the jazz. And then _stupid_ Granger here had to make sure that the teachers wouldn't notice—"

"It would give us a head start and you know it, Malfoy, with lots of extra time," Hermione interrupted. "It's all been arranged. I've been unbelievably upset over Harry's death and sought you out, and Seamus fancied he saw me talking to you, Pansy and Blaise. A moment later we disappeared, so Ron and Ginny went to look for us. According to Neville, we were later sighted hop-skipping our merry little way to the Room of Requirement, after which Dean will state he saw all of our morbid selves sneaking out by the lake, separately."

"And then Malcolm Baddock will come up with individual sightings for the each of us," Blaise said brightly. "Because if he does not, I will be forced to let out all those pictures of him snuggling with that pink teddy bear."

"It'll get his mind off his father as well," Pansy added, yawning a little. It was only a little over four in the morning. "Can we get going?"

Draco nodded shortly and kicked off, adjusting the knapsack on his shoulder slightly. Except for what seemed to be the unlimited amount of strawberries Hogwarts had, he hadn't fed for months now, and his natural urge to feast was taking its toll on him. He restrained himself because it would be a waste, anyway, since he wouldn't be able to swallow without retching since it wasn't Harry. And the person would die.

He was lucky he was still able to fly properly, Draco reflected. These days he always felt a little wave of nausea coming over him at the most inappropriate times. He still hadn't told anyone about the rare times when he even fainted because of the extreme hunger pains he kept experiencing.

He only hoped they weren't too late.

Behind them, Hogwarts was already a small speck, left without pomp or ceremony of any kind. He felt vaguely guilty, but only gripped his broom handle harder.

No sense in turning back now.

* * *

"You should be gone now," Remus commented lightly. The man next to him shifted, the only movement he was really making these days.

"Yeah, well…so what?"

Remus laughed, although there was no humor in it. "Here, let's get started. We should just count our blessings and get to Harry as fast as we can. Your little moments set us back a while."

"I had to go back and regain some of my strength!"

"But you used up your last chance," Remus reminded him gently. "And now look what's happening. I've had to bind your soul to this decrepit form and see if it holds you, and in the process, carry you all around the countryside. I should've just eaten you."

The man glared at him, and then rolled his eyes. "Let me on your back, hurry. That wave of magic we felt wasn't for fun, I suspect, and we're still pretty far off. We should be there soon, right?"

"By Harry's birthday, we should all be free."

"What day is it today?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Remus said, a little snappishly. The man cringed and Remus smiled softly in apology. "Sorry. I guess it's around the last few days of June now."

"Gee, how many red moons is that?" the man asked, sarcastically. Remus didn't answer. They'd seen too many moons tinged with a rusty color these days, a sure omen of bad luck, and he wasn't sure how to respond to that. Everything was being affected by it these days. Even when he was transformed, most of his human mind remained; enough, anyway, to take the man on his back and travel.

He wasn't sure if this was a good thing or not.

"Stop brooding and let's go, bumpkin."

Remus sighed and stooped so that his companion could slide on. "Why do you think that's an insult? Is it because you think you're so high and mighty because of some of your adventures?"

There was silence, for a moment, and then the man leaned down and spoke as they continued their trek. "No. It's because right now, we're saving Harry, and we're heroes. And heroes aren't bumpkins. Besides, don't you want to prove to him we're a little noble, for once? Bring a little royal blood to our name?"

"You're exaggerating. Being a hero doesn't mean that you have to be a king. Ever heard of Robin Hood?"

"No."

"Yes, you have!"

They bickered as they walked, the only reprieve in the oppression of the dark and silent forest.

* * *

The bug crawled along Draco's forearm, waking him from the deep sleep he had been in. Groaning, the blonde sat up, and then winced. Apparently his wings had decided to come out and fold themselves over him, one standing halfway in the air and the other dropping miserably and wrapping itself around him.

"About time you're awake," someone said. Blaise approached him in the near-darkness they were in, and Draco frowned.

"Where are we?"

"Somewhere along the coast," Hermione's voice came from the midst of the darkness. "We were flying over that little wizarding town, Botbost, and you suddenly keeled over. You're lucky Ginny's got seeker's reflexes still pounded into her by Harry and managed to hang onto your arm until we could catch up."

"So much for flying nonstop," Blaise said cheerfully. "I thought it was just fatigue, I mean we've been flying for three days straight, right? But then Granger and Pansy do that smart thing they like to do and—wow—we find out it's because you're getting weaker from not having fed! Forgot to tell us, Draco?"

The Slytherin in question was suddenly glad that his father had made sure he was unable to blush in public, a skill that came in handy now. "How long has it been? And where's Pansy, Ginny and Weasley?"

"Oh, Ron's knocked out cold in the back of this cozy cave here, and Pansy and Ginny are out collecting some new food. It's been at least four days now, in which we've had to slow our advance because you might have killed yourself or something."

"How—" Draco started, confused, but then Blaise plopped down next to him, and began to wring water from a cloth. He shoved it onto his friend's forehead and forced Draco into a lying down position.

"Granger's pretty smart, Draco. She and Ginny waltzed into Botbost after you fell and got a few locals drunk. They spoke quickly, and said that some people had been heading back and forth between London and someplace over the countryside, and that some weird meetings had been conjuring up rumors. Oh, and some pretty girl who was apparently, very morbid and reserved and whose family held the deeds to the town we're in right now has disappeared."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"Everything," Hermione said clearly. "They think the people who keep coming and leaving are doing it. A while before, they said that someone came in the middle of night and requested a room at the nicest inn there. He looked like an angel, they said, because of his fair hair and blue eyes."

"Father," Draco said, realization dawning quickly. "He came here and took the girl?"

"She was gone the next morning, so was he, and she had left all her things here."

Draco was about to ask what the family had said, but then an intriguing thought struck him. "What was the girl's name? And what town is this?"

Blaise tapped his chin thoughtfully. "You know, I can't remember, but it was exotic sounding and she's supposed to be really very pretty. At least, everyone kept repeating that. The town's called Mirtock. Pretty gothic place, though, and the family's unbelievably freaky, all pale, and they didn't even seem all that worried about the girl either, and—Draco? What's wrong?"

The Slytherin had abruptly leapt to his feet, and, just barely remembering to fold his wings in, he had gone in the general direction of Hermione's voice. He nearly tripped over her legs and ignored her exclamation of surprise, choosing instead to keep walking and hoping, until he got outside in a sudden burst of light.

"Draco!" Ginny waved at him, smiling. She and Pansy were both lugging full and heavy knapsacks; apparently, the foraging mission had been a success. A drowsy Ron was still rubbing sleep from his eyes as he came stumbling out of the cave, followed by Blaise and Hermione.

"This town isn't safe," he said, leaving no room for argument. "Get the brooms, get your stuff, and let's go."

They started to protest, but he glared at them all. His agitated state subconsciously channeled itself into his powers, and a light breeze stirred the winds around him. Draco forced himself to remain calm.

"Get. The brooms. Now."

No one said a word as they followed his orders.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, as they sat astride their various broomsticks, hugging the wood tightly and in a v-formation just as tight, Ginny questioned Draco on their hasty retreat. The young Malfoy looked down at the green, rolling lands below them with hooded eyes before shaking his head worriedly.

"The town wasn't safe. The family name is LeCroix. And the girl's name is Genevieve."

"Geez, master powers of deduction," Blaise said, but Draco shook his head.

"No, my father knew them. Very well, in fact. The family, didn't you notice something odd about them? Think hard?"

There was a moment of silence, and then Ron spoke up. "You know, come to think of it, when I was sitting there waiting while they talked to the family, I noticed something. I never saw any guys inside of the house; there were plenty outside, but none were inside."

"Exactly," Draco said, nodding. "Genevieve's real mother, not the adopted one who took care of her, was a succubus. Genevieve is as well, and a very powerful one. She was a great asset during the war with the Dark Lord, because when she took your soul, she took your life essence with it. Unlike other succubus's powers, which merely break down the soul as food, Genevieve can eat human food and life essences. She has no need for the soul, and leaves it someplace. This usually results in eternal agony since the soul can go nowhere, and some are not lucky enough to have the willpower needed to become a ghost."

"Hold on a second," Pansy said, a little incredulously. "How come we don't know about this, Blaise and I?"

"Because I never thought it fit to tell you. Father usually ignored the family, since they took all the necessary precautions. They made sure only women were around Genevieve, so that she wouldn't cause an unnecessary disturbance or leave any ghosts or anything lying around. That's why the Dark Lord used her so often; she could entice nearly any man, and the only reason she's still alive now is because while the Dark Lord was doing his dirty work, namely the killing of families such as Harry's and Longbottom's, she was here. The townspeople hid her in exchange for a vow not to kill anyone there."

"But they said she was around our age," Ginny told him. "She can't have been a baby when she did that, could she? If she did it when V—V—Voldemort was around, I mean."

"She's a succubus," Draco said flatly. "I'm not sure of her real age, but she's around three thousand years old."

Ron's broom bucked.

"And," the Slytherin added, ignoring the redhead's attempts to rein in his broom, "she happens to respect Tynan Malfoy dearly. The people love her, since Tynan is their main source of funds. They've probably already brought word to her of suspicious people asking too many questions. But this means one good thing came out of it."

"What fresh hell?" Blaise, who was used to Draco's idea of good things, moaned.

"She'll come to us if she can help it," Draco said. "We'll go until dusk, and I'm sure she'll find us. Genevieve has a soft spot, as a part human, and even if she didn't, Tynan will want to boast. We might as well make it quicker."

"This is good?" Ron asked.

Draco laughed.

* * *

And, just as Draco predicted, Genevieve did come to them.

They were sitting under the shade of a large forest that seemed to have sprouted quite suddenly in the midst of the countryside; Hermione said it was called, plainly, The Forest, because no one had survived in it long enough to figure out what exactly was there besides trees.

"Are you sure this place is safe?" Ron asked irritably. He scrunched closer to the small fire Draco had allowed them to build, warming his hands.

"Put your cloaks on, then," Draco said, noticing the rapid mimicking of his movements across the clearing. He was strangely untouched by the weather, but he brushed it off as another Urian side effect.

"Nothing could be worse than this," Ron went on. "In the middle of a forest no one's come out of alive, and stuck with three Slytherins and two girls. Oh, and we're on a mission to rescue my best friend, who is also my enemy's soul mate, from a mad, bloodthirsty witch and some people we don't even know about. And we're lost. Plus we all seem to have realized that our wands don't work in this forest. Bloody perfect."

"You forgot the part about the mysterious girl," a voice said loftily. Ron scrambled away as someone who was obviously a girl dropped by the fire, wearing a wide cloak and the hood pulled tight over her head. Dark ringlets spilled out from the hood.

"Genevieve," Draco greeted her. "How have you been?"

"Better than you," the succubus sniffed. "You all smell like dirt. And mud. And nasty things, ugh, who's been eating berries? I hate them. And Draco—" here she leaned closer, opening her mouth to expose the fangs that were identical to Draco's in order to inhale deeply. "—you smell like blood. Intriguing."

"You have news?" the blond said, ignoring the comment.

Genevieve sat back on her haunches. "For a price. I want a kiss, Draco. The boy I'm staying with is no fun, he's such a prude."

"Boy?"

Genevieve turned to eye Hermione, who had spoken. The dark-haired girl flashed a wide smile and stood. "My, my, this must be Hermione Granger." She looked around the fire, glancing back and forth between the people there and naming them. "Blaise Zabini, quite fit looking…Pansy Parkinson. Interesting, I heard your boyfriend died?"

Pansy growled, but it softened as Blaise gripped her wrist to quell her whilst Genevieve tutted.

"Such terrible manners. Let me see…Ginny Weasley, I heard you were quite interested in my friend before you left; moving on quite quickly, aren't you? And lastly—ah, Ronald Weasley."

Her eyes lingered on Ron for a moment longer than they needed to, and the redhead stood nervously and stiffly, letting his eyes drop. Genevieve was still staring icily at him before Draco called her attention back to him.

"News, Genevieve? And no kisses, you know it's impossible."

"Then I should want a kiss from him," she said, pointing at Ron. Hermione bristled slightly, but then dampened her anger. She was still mad at Ron anyhow, right?

Draco glanced at Ron. The elder Weasley looked nervously at Hermione, and when she gazed coolly back, his resolve hardened. Ron clenched his fists in his hand and nodded. "Sure. But the information comes first."

"Very well." Genevieve waved a hand airily, and those around her watched with barely concealed amazement as a tree seemed to sprout from the ground, forming a gnarled chair into which Genevieve immediately plopped down.

"His name, as you're apt to know, is Harry Potter. He is black-haired, green-eyed, I've stolen his glasses a few times but he has them now, I believe. I have been his playmate, along with a special friend, for the past two weeks."

"Special friend?" Pansy asked sharply.

Genevieve shrugged. "She doesn't like me very much. I'm going to let you guess who she is, since it won't matter if you know anyway." She leaned forward, eyes gleaming devilishly. "See, the thing is, Tynan let me play with her soul a little, but then I had to replace it. Her essence tasted quite good, let me tell you. Bellatrix seemed a little upset, but now that we've returned her soul Madame Lestrange is quite pleased with her."

"Luna," Ginny hissed. "What did you do to Luna?" Before anyone could stop her she had run forward, wand in hand, but she stopped just short of the chair. Genevieve had vanished.

"That wasn't very nice."

The succubus could be heard from above them, most likely in a treetop, and she sounded as though she were pouting. "I was going to tell you _all_ about what Tynan did to Lucius and to young Harry. I expect you'll like the new one."

A moment later Blaise shivered. Pansy glanced over at him and then moved back when she saw Genevieve, stroking the boy's face with a hand and with her other arm wrapped around his waist.

"He's _so_ different," Genevieve whispered silkily. "I like him much better this way. You know, he wasn't taken away from the castle. He left of his own accord. If you had asked the villagers, they wouldn't have told you, but many others saw him; racing here with such fury, burning with fever and crying, and still, he came to us."

She disappeared again, but this time she went straight to Ron and held his face between her hands. Her hood had fallen back, to reveal the glossy curls and the pale complexion that glowed in the firelight. Ron's eyes widened and he took a step back, face as pale as hers and a look of absolute fear reflected upon it.

"You've sent many people away from you several times, haven't you?" Genevieve murmured. She pressed her lips to his; smiling as he relaxed, and she draped her arms loosely around his neck.

Draco noticed the mist first, creeping around the hem of the succubus's robes, and he cried out to warn Ron but it was too late. The mist rose in tendrils, wrapping itself around the two lip-locked figures, until Ron broke away, gasping.

He glared fiercely at the girl in front of him, and then sought Hermione out with his eyes. She met them, looking frightened, and he tried to take a step forward, but the haze that was now erasing the existence of his legs stopped him. It spread quickly, and as it reached his torso, Ron struggled to speak.

"Vi—vi—cus," he said, and his eyes rolled in the back of his head. Genevieve turned her head and flashed an eerily cocky smile as she vanished, taking Ron with her.

Hermione fell to her knees.

"Oh God," she muttered. "Oh my God."

"What?" Draco demanded, spinning to face her. "What was that supposed to mean? Granger, if you know something—"

"It's—that spell that he used," Ginny interrupted. She seemed dazed. "On the girl in Knockturn Alley. Draco, where's Ron?" she sounded more like a little girl now than the older, more confident girl she usually was.

"Granger?" Draco said again. His eyes were glistening, although with what, it was impossible to tell.

Hermione started to cry. Ginny stared at her, and then wordlessly strode off into the trees. Draco raised his eyes to the heavens and then looked at Blaise and Pansy.

"Get Ginny, Blaise, make sure she doesn't get hurt. And Pansy, I need you to stay with Granger. I'm going to scout around and make sure nothing goes wrong. Find some shelter if you can."

The two silently obeyed him, used to his take-charge manner in such situations. Draco closed his eyes. This couldn't get any worse.

And, just as he finished the thought, there was a clap of thunder. The rain started softly at first, pelting only the overhead canopy, but it quickly erupted into a full on shower. In a few seconds, he was drenched.

Draco Malfoy lost all faith in the world.

* * *

When Ron woke up, he was sitting up stiffly in a chair. Automatically, he reached up to flick his bangs back, but found he couldn't. He glanced down and saw that his arms and legs were bound to the chair by silvery chains. His clothes, he realized, had also been changed into the old-fashioned high-necked robes that most pureblooded families chose to wear.

He kicked out, attempting to get free, but was stopped quickly by a pale, slim hand that was laid on his lap. He followed the hand to its owner, and found himself staring into the onyx eyes of Bellatrix Black. She smiled at him when he flinched, and the crimson lipstick she wore starkly against her pale face twitched along with her lips. Ron didn't let the fact that she was wearing a very formal red ball gown escape him, and neither did the sudden silence.

He looked up and recognized that he was a large, ornate ballroom with gold plastered along the ceilings and chairs. Dozens of people were standing still, all dressed impeccably, and every one of them was staring at the winding staircase.

Ron found his gaze being drawn up there as well. His eyes widened as he saw what it was that had captured the attention of everyone in the room, and a bead of sweat trickled down his side.

Harry was walking down the stairs.

He was wearing an unbelievably traditional pureblood outfit; the only slightly loose pants, just under the knee boots, black vest and tunic and dark black cape. His glasses were gone, but Ron couldn't have cared less. Harry's eyes, which before had been so full of warmth, were now icy emerald chips, and his messy hair had been somewhat tamed.

He held out one arm, and Genevieve stepped out from behind the archway behind the staircase. She was decked out brilliantly, matching Harry's newfound darkness totally. Her dark, forest green corseted dress flared slightly as it went on, and it set off her pale skin. Her dark hair was piled in a messy updo atop her head, and she had kohl around her eyes.

Harry held out his other arm, and this time Ron's jaw fell open.

Luna Lovegood stepped out, wearing a duplicate of Genevieve's dress, only in a red that complimented Bellatrix's own. Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, leaving curls and tendrils to fall from the net holding the bun in place, and black roses clung to each strand. She, too, wore kohl, and the same devious smile.

"Death Eaters," a voice said, and Tynan Malfoy moved forward from the balcony next to the stairs, "let us welcome the heir to the throne of the Dark Lord, Harry Potter!" Her dress was even more elaborate than either of the girl's, black and slim and with a loose cloak around it. Her hair was loose and flowing, curled into golden ringlets, and she was still easily the most beautiful woman in the room.

Tynan made a discreet motion, and Lucius Malfoy stood up from his seat next to her. He walked over to Harry, reverentially carrying an ebony box in front of him. He held it out in front of him, and opened the lid.

Harry lowered his arms, and reached into the box. He removed from it a circlet made of pure silver, and with rubies set into it. Genevieve kneeled next to him, and he placed it on her head. He repeated the process with Luna, but this time he drew a golden circlet inlaid with sapphires to crown her with.

Harry was the last to kneel, and Tynan herself moved forward to the box. "Harry Potter," she proclaimed, voice ringing out across the assembled peoples. "You are my dark princeling. I will treat you as though you were my own child, and these girls as though they were my own daughters. They whom you have chosen as co-rulers when you should reach power, who shall love you eternally, and unconditionally. Even if their love should falter, their loyalty shall never waver, lest they face a sure death. Do you agree?"

"I do," Harry said quietly, and his voice sounded much more cold and clipped than it had ever. "I accept these terms and all responsibilities, and in verity approach them gladly."

From the box came another circlet, the final one. This one was nothing but clear emerald, lined with gold and silver bands on the outside. It slid onto Harry's head, fitting perfectly, and some of his hair fell over it, effectively making him seem radiant.

The three circlets glowed brightly, and the teens themselves narrowed their eyes as the magic took effect. For another moment, all was quiet, and then the cheering started. Wild, raucous music began, and Ron withdrew into the chair as best as he could.

This was Knockturn Alley all over again. Harry was standing, and taking Genevieve's hand as he led her down the stairs to dance. Luna followed, eyes flicking across the people there before she solemnly accepted Lucius's hand.

The dance itself was a wild, spinning frenzy. Everyone seemed to melt away, though, and Ron watched in horror as Harry took Genevieve's hand, wrapping the other around her waist.

They moved quickly, setting the speed for others to follow, and soon both of the them were spinning; moving away from each other only to come back quickly, as though they couldn't stand the separation. Genevieve was laughing. This was her element, this passion that made everyone move, and suddenly Harry was smiling too, but it was a dark, wicked curve of the lips more than anything.

He dipped Genevieve and said something. She replied, still smiling, and as he stood, the both of them bowed and stepped away from each other. Genevieve fell into the arms of Antonin Dolohov, one of the only people permitted to touch the young princeling's 'wives'.

Ron looked up and locked eyes with Harry, who was now standing over him.

"Welcome to my kingdom," he said maliciously. "How do you like it now, Ronald? Doesn't betrayal taste so bitter? From my side, it's oddly sweet."

"Did you leave on your own?" Ron asked, forcing himself to not to cry, or worse, throw up.

"That," Harry said, waving a finger in front of his former best friend's face, "is a question for later. On my true crowning day I shall answer that."

"True crowning day?"

"My birthday," Harry said, voice suddenly becoming frigid. "July 31st. I lose all my memories of you and those _disgusting_ Muggles, and I get to choose if I will go on living with Mother or leave her side. Not a hard choice, really."

"Mother?" Ron said angrily. "Is that what you call her now? You're disgusting, Harry. I thought you were better than that, I thought—"

And suddenly Ron was staring at Bellatrix, whose eyes seemed to have sunken even further into her face. The stinging on the side of his face was painful, and he turned back to look at Harry, feeling the sting go down to a throb.

"You think too much," Harry told him, walked away.

Ron blinked.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore steepled his fingers and sighed wearily.

Overnight, six of his students had managed to disappear. Actually, it had taken them three days to figure it out. The Headmaster cursed the faulty schedules that had been set up because of the evacuations.

Carina Zabini had successfully managed to forge signatures so as to make them think each teacher had a reason to keep the children away from classes. Dumbledore himself had assigned her three-month's worth of detention, which she had accepted almost gleefully, considering the fact that she would have Seamus Finnegan, Dean Thomas and Neville Longbottom joining her.

Dumbledore found himself grasping at loose ends. None of the children would tell him anything, but one thing was obvious; they were going after Harry.

Even less obvious but still there was that they had not been told any details. Draco had planned everything impossibly well, maybe too much so. Dumbledore glanced down at the letter that lay unopened on his desk.

It was blue, and carried all the charms one would find on a Howler, with the exception of one thing; it was visual. He had already presented it to the staff and Aurors who came to visit, and was due to Floo over to the Ministry of Magic and hand it over as evidence in a few moments.

Dumbledore tapped the edge of the letter, deciding to check it out one more time. Maybe he would see something different, this time. Hopefully.

Instead, what he saw was the same as the last seven; there was Harry, dressed in traditionally pureblood and royal robes, seated on a throne. His throne room was equivalent to what one would see in a fairy tale gone wrong; demons and creatures of all natures dancing and screeching raucously, spinning between tables laden with drink and wine that seemed abundant, and everything was dark.

Sounds could be heard as well, some entrancing, some less so. Someone screamed and Harry glanced over disinterestedly, merely blinking as two shrouded figures dragged away one of the more effeminate demons to one of the connecting doors.

On either side of the large throne gilded in sparkling gold was a smaller throne. On Harry's left was one that stretched out like a loveseat. A girl with flowing ringlets of black hair was sprawled on it, wearing a flowing dress that seemed to have no end and no beginning. She smiled winningly at Harry, who grinned back indulgently.

Dumbledore frowned. The girl was familiar, but she was not a student, he knew. As well as the fact that no student of his (excluding Mr. Malfoy and any temporary ones) that he knew of had fangs.

But there was the matter of Luna Lovegood, seated so solemnly on Harry's other side, lying on the same type of throne, but while the girl on the other side simply _exuded_ excitement, Luna seemed more inclined to let one arm dangle off the edge of the throne and trace patterns in the stone ground.

"Meet your new enemy, Albus Dumbledore."

It was unmistakably Tynan Malfoy's voice, but she never appeared in the view of whatever it was that was recording these events.

Harry looked up, spotted Tynan, and smirked. It was something that was so unlike him it seemed artificial. He stood from his throne, long cape falling from the top of the throne to behind him as he strode arrogantly through the crowd. Both of the girls behind him looked up, and while the unknown girl let her head rest so as to talk to a demon approaching her soon after, Luna kept staring.

"Mother?" Harry said, and Dumbledore flinched. She really had changed him. The letter went dark and, in customary Howler manner, blew a raspberry at him before folding itself up and smoldering. Dumbledore performed the counter-charm to keep it from exploding, and then sighed again.

Oh, yes. This was a very grave matter indeed.

* * *

Gah, gah.

I'm very much tired. I feel like a catnap again. Only...it's late and I should be asleep now. Instead...I am watching Naruto.

From episode 72 to 99 in one day. Sad thing is, I do not love Naruto like I loved Fruits Basket or Full Metal Alchemist. I think I watch it for the obvious attraction between Sasuke and Naruto...yes...very obvious...(evil snickers all around).

Anyways, I think I'm mentioning it now only because I'd like everyone to marvel along with me as I examine how well along my obsession with anime has progressed if I am willing to stare at the computer screen for hours on end . 

Worry for me, luvvies.

* * *


	24. Time Turns Fragile, Break The Glass

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

_One thing, I don't know why  
Doesn't even matter how hard you try  
Keep that in mind I designed this rhyme  
To remind myself how I tried so hard  
Despite of the way you were mocking me  
Acting like I was part of your property  
Remembering all the times you fought with me  
I'm surprised it got so far  
Things aren't the way they were before  
You wouldn't even recognize me anymore  
Not that you knew me back then  
But it all comes back to me in the end  
You kept everything inside and even though I tried it all fell apart_  
_What it meant to me will eventually be a memory of a time when_

_-Crawling (In My Skin)- Linkin Park

* * *

_

**time turns fragile, break the glass  
issalee

* * *

**

Harry was sure that it never rained so hard before.

He liked to pretend that it was because of his recent betrayal, and then the idea was always quickly shrugged off. If Tynan heard his thinking, she'd laugh and call him a dreamer, and then hand out more things for him to do.

These days all he wanted to do was think.

How, he wondered, was he going to go about killing Draco and the others? He'd lure them in with Ron, maybe, and then kill them off slowly until Draco was the only one left. He'd take away the attachment the both of them shared, and then kill the Malfoy heir. Then everything would work out, and he could relax.

Harry frowned. His dark and shrouded green eyes scanned the room. Genevieve and Luna were his constant companions, never straying more than a room away. He found he didn't mind. Luna barely talked, and Genevieve besides was used to his habits by now. When he wasn't in a talking mood, she'd regale him with tales of her past, some things that made him laugh and others so dark he had to smile.

"Harry," she said now, "where's the redhead?"

Luna sat up slightly from the loveseat she had been laying on, placing her chin in her hands and smiling a little. "Do tell, Harry. I was talking to him, and when he doesn't want to ask questions he's great company."

"Don't talk to him," Harry frowned at the window. "I don't know what I'm going to do about him. Tynan's letting him wander around from time to time, but Tidget is watching him to make sure he doesn't do anything."

"We shouldn't keep prisoners," Genevieve mumbled. "They're too awkward around the house." She shook her head when Harry turned to say something. "Yes, I know, he can be used for a hostage. But it's still troubling, is all. Have you ever watched Muggle movies, Harry?"

He nodded.

"Well, don't the hostages always foil the plot in the end, even if they die?"

"And how do _you_ know so much about Muggles?" Harry said, smiling wryly. "Forget them, Genevieve. Muggles, hostages, everything. For now, before I have to do my part, I'd just like to relax."

"You're a very lazy prince," Luna said as she settled back down, blinking owlishly. "All you ever do is say you want to relax, and then you get that brooding look on your face. Like you're about to strike at someone."

"Here's a question," Harry said, "how do you like your new soul?"

Tynan had, under Harry's request, returned enough of Luna's soul so that she would not be such a mindless puppet. Bellatrix had been furious, but wisely kept it hidden.

"Odd," Luna shrugged. "I get little glimpses of things, but Tynan's given me a potion to take every night to repress them and strengthen my will a little. I feel stupid taking it."

"Don't stop," Genevieve joked. "We'll have to consider you a hostage as well, then."

"Aren't we all?" Harry said, and then leaned back. "But it doesn't matter anyways. What's the news on Hogwarts?"

"Nothing. Dumbledore's gone mad trying to keep it running smoothly, but I heard the redhead's family's near overrun it trying to find out how to get their children back. And then there's the matter of the Parkinson and Zabini families."

"Taken care of," Harry said. "The Parkinson and Zabini parents will be called to order a few days from now. I think, in time for our guests on our land to arrive."

"The schoolmates of ours or the unidentified ones?" Luna asked curiously.

"Both," Harry replied. "I really do want to capture those other ones early; whoever they are, they've done a good job of disappearing and reappearing every few days. One of them has got near no magical trace whatsoever."

"Odd," Luna said again.

"I'm hungry, Harry," Genevieve said. "And I'm tired of boring old castle food and I want to go out and _play_."

"You sound like a _child_," the raven-haired boy returned coldly. Genevieve and Luna automatically stiffened. Harry's mood had been one of his best since he had turned to Tynan's side, but the formal, frigid prince was back.

"Get the house-elf and get your food, idiot," he said, and then slumped a little. "And ask him to bring Tynan while he's at it."

"What for?" Luna asked him.

" 'What for'?" Harry mocked her. "For something. You'll find out soon enough anyways, I can't be rid of you."

"And what's brought on _your_ little mood swing?" Luna said irritably. Harry growled at her, and Genevieve stood suddenly, clapping her hands.

"Well," she said brightly. "Luna, I do believe you haven't taken your potion tonight, shall we get going?"

Harry smirked and a soft laugh escaped him. "You two jump too much. Forget Tynan. I want the encounter to speed up a little—Luna, you're right."

"I am?"

Harry stood up, and grabbed his cloak from off the seat next to him. The dark black would hide him effectively in the shadows, along with the rough black dragonhide his boots were made of and the whole black outfit.

"Let's go meet them," he said, and Genevieve jumped up in the air, punching it in silent triumph.

"What should I wear?" she said, and her outfit fizzled into a tight leather cat suit. "Sexy reconnaissance mission or—" here her outfit changed into a baggy shirt with bell sleeves and baggy pants that spilled into boots. "—messy vixen who fights with the guys?"

Luna laughed. "How about a normal dress? Look a little elegant, stupid, we're going to meet these people as rulers."

"Oh, you're right…" Genevieve said, nodding her head. "So does that mean the cat suit or what?"

* * *

In the woods, the group straggled along. Blaise was constantly with Ginny, who had turned rather wraith-like, and Hermione, who hadn't spoken since Ron had been taken. Pansy glanced worriedly at all of them from time to time; she, who really had no attachments besides Draco and Blaise, was the least affected. She'd done her mourning for Theodore.

"How much longer, do you think?" she asked the weary blond.

"No idea," he muttered. "Now I'm just hoping for shelter." There were dark circles under his eyes, and his wings dragged on the ground behind him; he was too tired to bring them back.

"This was a bad idea," Pansy said sadly.

"Better than not doing anything, right?" Draco looked up towards the sky. "I think it's starting to rain again."

"How do you—" Pansy stopped as the light pitter-pattering of raindrops permeating the treetops, and seconds later, a rainfall was upon them. "Oh. The Urian in thee," she said as poetically as possible.

"This is pathetic," Draco said. "I was late. I should have felt that ages ago."

"Shut up," Pansy hit him lightly. "First you'll get mad over predicting the future wrong, and then you'll end up like Trelawney."

"Six feet under?"

"Don't speak ill of the dead, Draconis."

Draco could tell she was amused, though, and smiled a little. It turned into a grimace as he winced and stumbled. "I need to feed," he said softly.

"Yeah, I think we all noticed that." For a moment, it looked like Pansy was going to cry, but then she shook her head and sniffled instead. "There are gonna be a lot of regrets after this one. I don't think we'll stand so tall after this?"

"When you get your foot cut off, normally you're a little lopsided."

Pansy laughed. "You're such a Pureblood."

Even Draco had to crack a smile at that. It was silent for a moment longer before he took a light sniff at the air. Pansy looked at him, worried. "What is it?"

Draco wiped the damp curls of hair away from his face, sniffed again and then shrugged. "Nothing. For a moment, I thought I smelled perfume."

"No," Blaise suddenly appeared next to them. "I smell it too. And do you hear something?"

"Perfect," Draco muttered, and turned around. "Granger, Ginny, I want you to stay behind me at all times. Pansy, you watch them and our left. Blaise, take the right. And you two, while you're behind me, watch what's going on there, okay?"

They all nodded and got into their positions. Draco's wings lifted slightly, enough so that the tops could come inward to form a sort of canopy over the heads of the girls. Ginny looked up and smiled.

"Show-off," she said lightly, and Draco smirked.

* * *

"What was that?"

Remus blinked and looked up at his friend. They were sitting in the canopy of a tree, safe from the rain but both tired from the mad dash to get there in time.

"What do you mean?"

The man gestured towards the leaves behind them. "I thought I heard something—and smelled something. Nice perfume, I think."

Remus sniffed the air. "I smell it too," he admitted. "Never before, though."

There was a rustling noise. Remus started, and then drew out his wand. "I'll check," he said. The man touched his shoulder lightly.

"Be careful, Re," he said.

Remus smiled, and stood. Shakily, he made his way along the inner trunk of the tree and towards the leaves. The branches were moving still, making a louder noise now, and he could see flashes of black in between them. Suddenly, something shot past him, barely grazing his cheek. Remus cried out in surprise and fell back, just as the other man came around the trunk.

It took a moment for Remus to regain his senses, but when he did, it was to see his friend pointing and shaking with silent laughter.

From the bushes, an indignant mother owl and her chicks glared at him and the offending magpie they'd just chased away. In between them was a bright purple flower, unfurling slowly to send more of its strong scent their way.

* * *

Someone laughed and Draco started, just as Pansy tripped. He turned around automatically, and felt Blaise tighten next to him.

"Are you okay?" he started to say, and then stopped when he saw that Pansy was getting up and shaking her head slowly. She wrapped her hands around her ankle and grit her teeth.

"I think I sprained it," she told him.

"Wonderful," Blaise said, and kneeled. "Draco, we've got to stop now. We can't leave her and she can't walk."

"I wasn't protesting,' Draco complained, but relaxed anyway. "I'll get some herbs or something, you can sort them out later."

"You'll do no such thing," Pansy said, "I'll—" she stopped abruptly and her hand fluttered to her stomach. She winced, and then slumped against the ground.

"Pansy!" Draco took a step forward, and then stopped. Blaise had turned around and was trying to stand up, but he couldn't seem to force himself to do it. His eyelids were drooping, and when Draco looked at the Gryffindors, a slow fog was creeping in around them and they too were looking sleepy.

"Stay awake," he said desperately. "Please stay awake!"

There was a loud laugh again, and a figure wrapped in black dropped into view in front of them, jolting them from their groggy states.

"Well, well, well," the figure said. "A Malfoy begging? I've never heard of such a thing."

The voice was familiar, Draco thought as his eyes narrowed. There was no magical trace coming from this person, and yet there was a pull coming from him. Draco moved back as though he wanted to rid himself of it.

The laugh came again, and the girl who had taken Ron appeared in front of them, dressed in a magnificent red velvet dress and with a circlet around her head. She looked gaily at them, and smiled.

"Hello," she said brightly. "Remember me?"

"Unfortunately," Blaise said loudly.

"Oh, me too?" A third person moved out from behind the first figure, and this one was hidden by a light blue cloak. She pulled at it, revealing golden curls and aloof, cold eyes. "Hello, Draconis."

"Luna?" the confused blond said. "Is that you?"

Luna tugged self-consciously on one of the curls and looked at a loss. Genevieve glanced at her and rolled her eyes. "For—move, stupid!" she hissed. "Don't tell me you _really_ didn't take your potion!"

"Shut up," Luna said, and then she turned to the group, who had watched the familiar exchange with bewilderment. "Come with us quietly or we take you by force."

"Luna, you're joking, right?" Ginny took a step forward. "Listen to me, they've got Ron, and—"

"Can we please kill them this time?" Genevieve stepped back to the first figure, which was unfastening the top part of his cloak. The hood fell off to reveal the cold green eyes, the messy black hair and the pale, pale face.

"Harry?" Draco whispered.

The cruel smile had fixed itself on his face. "The one and only," the former Gryffindor said. "I'm afraid that I'm with your aunt now, Draconis. Wish me luck as I take over the world?"

"You bastard—" and to everyone's surprise, Hermione flew forward, arms out and hands intent on wrapping themselves around Harry's throat. "I hope you burn in Hell!"

He raised a hand and she stopped in mid air, body relaxing and falling quickly. Hermione's body was still, except for the shallow, ragged breaths she took with clear difficulty.

Harry, however, did not have time to block Blaise's sudden attack on him, nor Ginny's quick follow-up. The two had grabbed both of his arms and dragged him to the ground. Harry snarled and wrenched away, viciously smacking Blaise in the back of his head and watching with grim satisfaction as the dark-haired boy slumped. Ginny, with eyes cold and furious, wrapped her hands around his neck.

"How could you?" she hissed, shaking violently. Harry grabbed her hands, squeezing, and she winced but never relinquished her hold. As Harry's vision began to dim, Ginny screamed and suddenly let go.

Genevieve jumped on top of her and began to scratch violently at her face with her nails, which had grown into claws.

"Don't you _dare_ touch him!" she screamed, as Ginny began to wail hysterically. "_Don't you dare don't you dare don't you DARE!_"

"Stop!" Harry sat up and winced; Blaise had ripped his sleeved and Ginny had left deep marks in his neck, as well as a wound in his back he probably had gotten when he fell in his lower back. Luna was kneeling next to him, but she was useless. Her blue eyes were wide as she surveyed her surroundings, and one pale hand was covering her mouth.

"Genevieve!" Harry stood up, swaying. He could feel Draco's eyes on him, saw as the Urian tried to get close but was repelled, both by Genevieve's claws and his urge not to hurt Ginny.

By now the redhead was bleeding profusely, and somehow Pansy had woken up. She too hobbled upwards, leaning against the tree and screaming as the color left her face. Harry tried to cover his ears. The noise around him was deafening.

"Mummy!" Luna's high voice had joined the fray. Harry automatically took a step towards her; they were bound, he remembered, but he was bound to Genevieve too. He broke into a run, grimacing as he felt the blood running down his back, and he tripped on top of Genevieve.

She shrieked, and he saw she was crying as she held onto him. "Don't—don't hurt Harry," she sobbed. "Please don't hurt Harry." He wrapped one arm around her, and looked at Ginny, whom Draco had immediately dragged away.

The two boys locked eyes, and Harry could just barely make out the fury in Draco's clouded eyes. He made as if to get up, but apparently it had been a pretty big lesion in his back. He looked back and rolled his eyes; underneath the spot where he had previously lain was an upturned boulder, sharp as an arrow, and glistening with blood that was being swept off by the rain.

There was still too much noise, he thought, as he tried to stand up again and failed miserably. Genevieve noticed and wiped her face as she stood, supporting him. Luna, who had probably felt his pain, was stumbling towards them, still mumbling under her breath. Harry felt his circlet fall a little, and he pushed it up. Draco noticed.

"You've been crowned," he said flatly. Harry wondered if the blond noticed the slight lilt in his voice that suggested he was too weak to do anything, or the way he looked; pale, and gaunt. The princeling felt a sting of some unknown emotion and shrugged it off.

"So?" Harry said offhandedly, and then changed the subject, "Have you surrendered yet or what?"

Draco growled and lurched forward unexpectedly. For some reason, Harry panicked and threw his two sovereigns behind him. They fell to the ground and watched anxiously as Draco flew on top of Harry, fingers getting caught in the dark hair and words garbled as the two of them yelled at each other.

"How could you do that?" Draco spat, attempting desperately to untangle his fingers from Harry's hair. "Don't do this, Harry! This is what you didn't want _me_ to do!"

"Well, thanks for leaving the offer open to me!" Harry bit out. Draco's eyes widened momentarily before he managed to free his fingers, and he punched Harry with so much force the both of them stopped struggling and stared at each other.

Harry felt the blood running down his jaw, and he wished he could cry right now, but he couldn't allow that. He felt nauseous as he tasted the metallic tang, and a hate so great he could barely stand it rose up in him.

"I _hate_ you," he said. "I hope you _die_, and I hope it's a _slow_, _painful_ death and that _I'm_ the on that kills you!"

Draco's grip loosened, and at first Harry thought it was from the shock, but then the blond slumped and his hands moved to place themselves upon Harry's chest. He struggled to breathe, and glared groggily at Harry.

"You're—you're evil, Potter," he said, almost disbelievingly. His eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he sagged, passing out immediately. Harry didn't move, even when there was the crack that announced a powerful Apparation and Tynan appeared, Lucius and Bellatrix behind her.

Lucius picked Draco up off him with his mouth drawn in a tight line, as though he were trying desperately to not to remember something vile. Luna and Genevieve were at Harry's side instantaneously, both of them looking miserable and worried for him.

"Stupid," Tynan said as she kicked Hermione's prone form. "Some people are such idiots." She looked at Harry meaningfully, and nodded to Bellatrix, who had been casting longing glances at Luna.

"How did you find us?" Harry asked instead. He had masked the area well, hadn't he?

"I killed the Zabini mother and father today," she said airily. "And the Parkinsons have been effectively detained. I swear, Karl Zabini is better off dead. But I was making sure they were rid of effectively and I heard the noise; you didn't soundproof the area, darling."

Harry nodded absently, and dredged up a thought. "Didn't they have other children besides the two defective ones?"

"Yes," Tynan said, regarding him quietly. "Erick, Ivan, and the youngest one, Sarah. She's a little odd, for my tastes. Too much like Bellatrix; she would die for me, she said."

"Beautiful," Harry said, and then passed out.

Tynan rolled her eyes. "Luna, Genevieve, I want you to pick him up and take him out of here. We've caught some other unexpected visitors. I suspect when Harry wakes up he'll be interested in them."

"Yes, Tynan," they chorused and lifted Harry up.

In a moment, the forest was quiet once more.

* * *

Harry thumbed idly through the book he had been brought by Genevieve, looking bored for all the world to see. But he was watching his two sovereigns from the corners of his eyes; their moods had changed magnificently.

Three days after the attack, Luna seemed on the edge of breaking down, and was even more quiet and withdrawn. She was starting to look pale, too, and he was worried about her. Genevieve was behind him, changing his bandages and chattering nervously. She was never sure of herself anymore after the collapse she'd suffered in the forest, and the unexpected display of emotion had been frightening for her.

Everything was quiet, as though no one was sure of what they were supposed to do. Harry suddenly felt a pang of guilt, which was quenched so quickly he could barely believe it had been there; Nestea had been stepping carefully around him ever since he had been crowned, and now she barely spoke to him after this incident. She never dared to raise her eyes; either for fear of him or what he'd see in them, he didn't know.

"…and then my mother would laugh and tell me that most men were worth nothing," Genevieve said as she cleanly cut through the bandage. Harry's body always rejected the spells cast on him; it was tedious when he was injured, but he supposed it was a price that would soon leave when Draco was out of the picture as well.

"There," the succubus patted his back. "And now we've got nothing much more to do but sit here and wait for news."

"Of what?" Luna asked, and then clutched at her forehead, wincing. Whenever she talked, it seemed like she was repressing something at the same time.

"Don't say anything," Harry said softly. He felt uncomfortable whenever he said something nice though; it became more and more like a weight on his shoulder when he was in anything but one of his dark moods, so he lowered his tone an octave and narrowed his eyes. "Your voice is getting on my nerves."

But he saw the way both Luna and Genevieve relax; they knew they couldn't deal with this side of him. This was what they reveled in, probably; the randomness of it all.

The door opened suddenly, and Tynan walked in, trailing a chain behind her. "Harry," she said softly, "we've got some visitors."

Draco shuffled in, looking unbelievably weary. His hands were manacled as was his throat, and he seemed to be having trouble merely staying awake. Behind him, his wings trailed forlornly, feathers falling and some hanging by their ends.

"What's _he_ doing here," Genevieve began, but Harry sat up quickly and stopped her with a raised hand. Tynan arched an eyebrow.

"He's here because I don't want him to die yet, and he is still attached to Harry and all this rejection business I killing him."

"Damn," Genevieve said, and sulked. Luna, however, got to her feet and took a step towards Draco before crumpling to the floor. A soft gold hue slowly spread around her body and she began to whimper.

"Excellent," Tynan said, and discarded the chain in Genevieve's hands before walking over and picking up the unconscious girl effortlessly. "Harry, keep watch over him. Oh, and I'm breaking Rabastan out in a few days, so don't expect to see me."

"Yes, Mother," Harry replied tonelessly, and stared at Luna's prone form. "What's happening to her?"

"She has Seer blood and it's finally awakened," Tynan said. "Harry, don't come out of this room until I send Tidget in, okay?"

He didn't even get a chance to reply before Luna was gone.

There was silence in the room, and then Genevieve jerked at Draco's chain. The blond stumbled and fell; he was wearing the same clothes he had been wearing when he left Hogwarts; his Pureblood clothing, although now it was ripped and tattered and bloodstained. Harry looked at it distastefully.

"Don't do that again," he muttered to Genevieve, and slipped off the high desk he had been sitting on. "Tidget!"

The house-elf appeared, bowing to him and Genevieve and shooting Draco an ugly glare. "Yes, Master, Mistress?"

"Get some food," Harry said. "Anything. And don't take forever trying to make it nice, I don't care."

"Yes, Master."

"And," he said, after a moment's hesitation. "Bring the prisoner some new clothes. Tell Nestea to come in with them so she can dress him, and something to wash him with too."

"Yes, Master."

Genevieve watched disbelievingly, and then dropped the chain and flounced away. Harry watched her go and raised his eyes as he called her name softly. She topped and turned around.

"Come here," he said, and when she was in front of him he smiled, though it was strained. "It's not going to change anything," he said. "He's not going to change anything."

"Yeah," Genevieve said. "Because we're still friends, aren't we?" This time she didn't come back when he called her name, and she disappeared into the adjoining room, fuming.

The room was silent again, and then Draco spoke. "Who was it," he said quietly, "that once told me they were afraid of forgetting everything?"

Harry turned and stared at him, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Someone else," he said. "Someone else who obviously didn't know what they were talking about."

* * *

The cells were small; seven paces across and four paces wide. Hermione looked down her nose at the dirty straw and cold, dripping walls; a little uniform for such a unique character, she thought angrily.

Ginny, she hadn't seen since they brought her down the cell hallways still soaked in blood. "Let me help her!" Hermione had screamed. No one had said anything back to her.

Pansy, she knew, had been detained near her parents; close enough to know they were there, but her parents would have to scream to talk to her, and no one had enough energy to scream in these dungeons.

Hermione had been both surprised and slightly unsure of herself when she saw Ron was in the cell across from her; but he had barely reacted when he saw them there. She could see him now; curled up on his side, chest rising and falling, barely moving except for when they brought his food. He was called out of the cells often, and when he came back he seemed more withdrawn.

Hermione didn't have to be a genius to know what they were doing. The one person whose loyalty in Harry was the most firm; who would never doubt his best friend, even if they did get into arguments; she remembered Ron in fourth year, during the Goblet of Fire incident.

He had been angry, yes, and he had doubted Harry then. But never had it totally consumed him. She remembered hearing from Dean and Seamus and Neville that sometimes he had woken up and started for Harry's bed, smile already on his face before it faded and he forced himself to turn around and walk away.

Ron couldn't live without Harry, that much was obvious, and she had once believed it was the same the other way around.

Blaise was on her other side, but he didn't speak much. She supposed he was worried about Draco; who had been still and pale when they had last seen him being dragged out of the dungeons, eyes closed and breathing fitfully.

She didn't want to think about the other two she had seen. Remus and—she couldn't even believe it. She prayed desperately it was an illusion because she wasn't sure if either she nor Harry nor anyone else who knew him would be able to stand seeing him again, _especially_ Harry, and she hoped frantically that they would never bring him to face Harry.

That was all she could do, in her tiny seven by four pace cell, as she stared at the dirty straw and fingered her hair, matted with sweat and dried blood.

She missed Harry so much it ached, and she missed Ron too. She crawled up to the bars, and carefully, so as not to alert the guards, raised her voice to speak.

"Ron," she called softly. "I know you probably don't want to talk to me, but listen. I know about the girl; it was that one that took you, the succubus, Genevieve. I get it, Ron. The curse didn't do anything but strip her of some of her demoness inheritance. It's okay, Ron, and I'm—so sorry I doubted you. Friends don't doubt friends, Ron, and I want so badly to be friends with you again."

Across the cell, Ron shifted a little, and then fell back into his steady breathing pattern, even if it was a little sharper. He was crying, Hermione could tell.

She crawled farther into the cell and dropped into the straw, tilting her head so she could stare up at the damp ceiling, pressing her fist to her mouth and ignoring the dirty taste.

The dungeons echoed with the sounds and sorrows of a thousand hurts, and no one could stand it all.

* * *

Harry opened the door when there was a knock on it, and he didn't acknowledge Nestea at all but to point her in the general direction of Draco's whereabouts. He went back to the duvet he was curled up on, eating his food and brooding silently.

Nestea approached the dirty, ragged boy she had heard was taken prisoner, and lifted his face to hers. Her breath caught in her throat, and she saw Draco's eyes sharpen unexpectedly.

Carefully, she took her wand from her apron pocket, and watched with hidden amusement as Draco's eyes wandered down to her stomach and he stiffened. Nestea straightened and turned around.

"Your Majesty," she said, avoiding his eyes, "might you please leave the room? I'm going to wash him, and—it might be better if you aren't here. And Genevieve might need some comforting, too."

Harry regarded her, eyes flat and opaque. He was obviously thinking hard about something. "I'm going for a walk," he muttered.

"But you can't leave," Nestea said, feeling the panic rise in her stomach. "The prisoner—"

"I get it," Harry said sharply. He stood up, glaring irately at the both of them. "I just don't want to have to deal with her so soon. And I won't go far, just to my room to get a few things. Don't tell Mother."

"Mother?" Draco said, before he could stop himself.

Harry's gaze swept over him. "You should keep your mouth shut," he said coldly. The dark-haired princeling snatched up his cloak and left, slamming the door loudly behind him.

Nestea breathed a sigh of relief, and went back to cleaning Draco's face methodically, wiping away the dirt and grime with patience and a gentle touch.

"Who are you?" he asked, after a moment of silence.

The maid smiled. "No one but a guardian angel."

"Don't play that game with me."

"What game?" Nestea spelled his clothes off, and Draco jumped, suddenly grateful for his wings, which had come alive enough with Harry's presence to spring forward and cover him as he blushed.

"Don't do that so suddenly!" he snapped.

"Sorry," she said, but she didn't look sorry as she sent a rush of water to rain on his head. Draco spluttered indignantly, and then regretted it as she sent a particularly rough blast of hot air to dry off his wings and body.

By the time she was done, he was dry, but sore. Nestea gave him a thoughtful look, before she conjured up bandages and wrapped them around him using a simple charm. As she trimmed the edges of his hair (watching in fascination as it immediately grew back, albeit a little longer) she spoke softly to him.

"You must forgive Harry, he's not exactly…sure of what he's doing. Don't move too much, there's ointment in those bandages to help you heal naturally but only just enough."

"What do you mean," Draco said, grunting a little as the bandages tightened, "he's not sure of what he's doing? He seemed pretty sure to me, and I felt nothing but free will radiating off of him."

Nestea looked down busying herself with the task of summoning clothing for him. "I'm not at liberty to say," she said softly. "But here! These clothes are quite nice!"

Draco looked at them. The same black leggings he would normally wear at home, but with chunky boots that ended a few scant inches below his knee, a long sleeved white undershirt that was tight on him, and a tunic to wear over it. Nestea clucked over him a few times, arguing and eventually giving into his request for boxers to wear underneath, and a normal black robe to wear over that. She eyed his wings warily.

"Those don't fold back?" She was obviously restraining herself from touching them, and he shook his head.

"No, and don't try to touch them, either."

Nestea looked a little hurt, but then she smiled widely. "There, that's my work done." She glanced worriedly at the door. "But Harry's not back yet…oh, I hope he hasn't run off."

"I would've felt it," Draco said automatically, and then winced.

Nestea looked at him. There was suddenly a change to her, as though she seemed wearier somehow. "You've been through a lot, haven't you? Your father, your mother, your mate, your friends…your whole life is being uprooted."

"You hesitated on mother."

Nestea didn't say anything. Draco looked at her, face emotionless. "I noticed you looked a lot like me when you were washing my face. Even more so, you look like my mother."

"I am a Malfoy," Nestea said, turning her face unconsciously. Draco eyed the icy blue eyes and golden hair. He shook his head.

"You aren't. I can tell." At her shocked look, he elaborated. "My father had me make sure I knew how to tell the difference. Malfoys don't have blue eyes; they have gray ones. And even if they did darken to gray, no Malfoy has had actual blond hair. It always lightens to this shade of light, light blond, like silver."

Nestea didn't say a word, and he took a step towards her, forcing her to meet his eyes as he pushed her head up using her chin. "Who are you, really? He demanded.

Instead of answering, she started to cry.

* * *

The students were being sent home again; all packed away and leaving, maybe for the last time. They had been here this long only because everyone had been reluctant to go off school grounds, but now there seemed to be no reason to stay. The teachers were staying, for reasons left unsaid. Dumbledore watched them go, feeling a distinct twinge of sadness before he turned to look at Snape again.

"It is fixed then, Severus?"

The Potions Master nodded. "We'll be able to have the Aurors here in a few days; Tonks will head the expedition."

McGonagall stood; her eyes had turned stony and hard as she looked the two men up and down. "Don't tell me you're just going to leave the school unprotected, Albus! It's still a valuable fortress, no matter what you may think!"

"I'm not going to leave it unprotected," Dumbledore said, eyes shining. "You'll be here, Minerva."

"Albus—"

"No, exceptions will not be made," he said, holding up a hand. "We need someone to remain, and as Severus is not exactly in high favor with anyone else, you are the only one who can remain in active duty."

"Albus," McGonagall said despondently, but it was obvious she could say nothing at all. She hadn't been able to do much; whatever she had been hit with during the attack last winter, it had injured her terribly.

"When will you be back?" she said instead.

Dumbledore glanced Fawkes, who was trilling softly. "Expect me back by the first of August, Minerva. I do, after all, not intend to leave you to sort out what we will be doing for this new school year by yourself."

"It's the twenty-first of July already, Albus," McGonagall said quietly. "Don't tell me you're going to stay that long."

"I've decided to take Harry someplace exotic when we celebrate his birthday," he said, laughing softly. "Anyways, it would be better if we could send the Weasleys home as well. Talk to them for me, Minerva, please. Molly listens to me, but not when it concerns her children. A woman's touch might be more—experienced, I daresay, in a situation such as this."

McGonagall smiled, but it disappeared quickly as the fireplace flickered and swirled. Slowly, a head emerged.

One of the twins, Fred or George Weasley, peered anxiously around the office space. McGonagall was instantly at the fireplace's side, stern mask slipped firmly in place.

"What are you doing, using a private Floo connection?" she demanded. "Mr. Weasley, this is a very serious offence!"

"But I've got a reason," Fred or George protested.

"Oh, and what might that be?" McGonagall folded her hands across her chest, glaring irritably at the child.

But the twin did not seem fazed. He glanced back in the fire and licked his lips. "The Ministry's going crazy, and Dad told me to use this way to get at the Headmaster. Fred's been hit with something and is at St. Mungo's, so is Charlie, they were the closest when it happened."

"When _what_ happened, Mr. Weasley?" Snape put in curiously.

"Professor," George said, eyes wide. "Rabastan Lestrange's escaped!"

* * *

"There was a lot of smoke around the hallway we were going down," Hughes DeMarcy told Dumbledore as they walked down the Ministry hallways. "Naturally, we stopped and had him go down here."

They stopped, and DeMarcy pointed the charred area in the middle of the hallway, directly across from a door. "Someone crashed through that, screaming bloody murder. And then the Death Eaters started pouring through. We surrounded Lestrange and fired off spells immediately, but we were overwhelmed and by the time someone had arrived, half of them were gone already through Floo, Lestrange with them, and the other half were dead or escaping."

"Were there any prisoners?" Dumbledore asked, looking at the broken remains of several Ministry officials and Death Eaters. Mediwitches were already gathered around, talking in loud and urgent voices.

"None, sir. The one Death Eater we caught wouldn't talk, and later on he just died. We suspect that he had some sort of spell on him that went off when he was captured, although if that's true it's a very old and Dark one."

Dumbledore scanned the area once more, and then strode over to the door. The knob had melted off clearly, and the glass of the window was shattered. "Whose office was this before?"

"Mine, sir," DeMarcy said, embarrassed. "I was leading Lestrange down and had stopped to scout behind us when this happened. I'd been in my office moments before he arrived; the Floo was closed and the fire wasn't open."

"There are ways of Flooing without fire."

"Yes, of course," DeMarcy stuttered. "But it's just that—sir, when they came through, I felt the most amazing burst of magic and I could have _sworn_ I heard chanting. I think there was someone else who stayed in that office, keeping the Floo open and the smoke or whatever it was in that hallway."

"What of your secretary, Mr. DeMarcy?" Dumbledore asked as she took a discreet look around the office. It was of the norm; small, cramped, and messy. Nearly everything inside, though, was burnt to a cinder and most was still smoking terribly.

"She was the one who ran out," DeMarcy said. "She kept screaming about a fire, and she was also the first casualty. Shame, she was a charming girl."

"Yes," Dumbledore said, and looked back at the hallway. "Is that her?"

A young brunette woman with hair past her shoulders and vividly green eyes was laying against the stone walls, mouth still slack and fingers charred. She looked all right otherwise, and Dumbledore eyed her closely before turning to DeMarcy, who was nodding furiously.

"Ah, Headmaster!"

They both turned to see a haggard looking Arthur Weasley sweeping down the hallway. "Thank you, DeMarcy," he said. "Can I see you in my office, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore nodded and muttered his apologies to DeMarcy, who nodded back feebly and returned to the task of relocating visitors.

"Well?" Arthur said, as they all but jogged up to his office. "What do you think, Albus? I've got nothing here, except that they Flooed, but that would be impossible since the connections were closed."

"I have a theory," Dumbledore said as they closed the door. "But I don't think you'll like it. The secretary was a Death Eater, right?"

"She wanted to be," Arthur said disgustedly. "We were having her watched after she was rumored to have been involved with that attack last winter, but nothing turned up. We should have watched her better."

"No, you did fine," Dumbledore said, a little airily. "I don't suppose you found any traces of Floo in the fireplace, did you?"

"Not one," Arthur said, shaking his head sadly. "It was like they'd never used it."

"What if I told you they hadn't?"

Arthur's eyes widened slowly. "If you have something Albus, please share it with me. I need this news desperately, and quickly."

"I believe," Dumbledore said, "that the young secretary was to be put out of the picture soon anyway, and Tynan decided to put her to good use before she died. When I checked the office, I found odd scratches in the corners."

"Normal after a fire, some glass blows up."

"But this wasn't glass," Dumbledore said. "These were runic markings. Four, three, three, six, two. The number of scratches along certain walls and corners in the room, all with a little blood soaked in the center. It would have turned the whole room into a fireplace."

"You mean—"

"She did it," Dumbledore said. "But she didn't know she would still be in it when it happened. I suspected it when I saw her fingers; they were charred, but her body was fine. When she had set the spell, it was already timed and started to go off. She ran out screaming, and they killed her before grabbing Lestrange and Flooing away. That is also why the doorknob melted off."

Arthur shook his head. "Albus, you genius."

Dumbledore leaned back and smiled wanly. "Why, thank you Arthur, I tend to try."

* * *

Rabastan stretched lazily as he entered the castle, bowing slightly as he saw Tynan walking towards him. Now that she had a princeling under her arm, he wasn't about to go and tease her—at least, not in public anyway.

"Welcome back, Bast," she said nonchalantly.

"Took you long enough," he muttered. "That cell was too small. It was driving me crazy."

"You already are, though," Tynan said, smiling coldly. "Here, I've got some business to attend to, so can you just find your way to your own room using Tidget? You remember the beast, don't you?"

The house-elf stepped out from behind her and bowed timidly. "Master Lestrange," it said politely. "Master's room is waiting for Master. Master will follow Tidget, please?"

Rabastan glared at Tynan. "Some subtle dismissal techniques you've got there. I suppose it's the girl? What are you going to do with her?"

"She's a Seer," Tynan said, golden bangs falling in front of her eyes. "It wouldn't do to leave her power untapped. I may have the blood in me but I can prophesy because of all the other creatures inside me as well."

"So she's a tool," Rabastan said tonelessly. "And the Potter boy? What about him? What is he to you, then?"

"Somewhat of a surrogate son, you could say," Tynan glanced up the stairs. "Get going, Bast. I think you'll meet someone you might like upstairs—find the room Harry's in first, Tidget."

She turned and walked away, waving a hand as she went. Rabastan watched her go with a smile on his face; Merlin, that girl could sashay…

He schooled his features into an emotionless mask again and reveled in the feel of freedom. It was still a little stuffy, but he ignored it in favor of following the house-elf up the stairs.

He stopped in front of the door, and waved an airy hand to show the house-elf it could leave. Rabastan watched as Tidget disappeared impassively. He'd always hated that house-elf. It knew too many secrets for its own good and was always getting too involved in things.

He contemplated knocking and then decided that would just be too much trouble. Without another thought he opened the door and stepped in, closing it quickly behind him.

The two people he saw in there had his eyes widening dramatically.

* * *

Luna writhed on the dusty floor of the dimly lit room, eyes wide and clothing ripped. She had screamed herself hoarse only a few days ago, and she wasn't about to totally lose her voice.

Bellatrix was standing silently on one side of the room, her appointed guard until this whole mad ordeal was over. Tynan had left to go get more ingredients for her—whatever it was she was doing. Luna had lost all hope of attempting to keep the facts straight.

As far as she knew, she had been dragged into this room and something like a pentacle had been drawn around her. Flickering candles outlined the edges of the white chalk, and Luna still only saw red.

Her vision clouded over again and she moaned with reluctance. Tinges of blood red seeped in, and she started to cry.

It would be a bloody one, this time.

* * *

_No._

_No._

_Nonononono._

_She looked around, eyes gleaming with worry. That was Harry's voice. Why was he saying no? What was he refusing?_

_And then there was blood._

_Everywhere, along the edges of the walls of the castle, flooding the yard, and Harry was standing in the middle of it, laughing loudly and screaming to the heavens, Tynan's body hacked down at his side. Genevieve was clinging to his leg, eyes wide and face blood-spattered, but she was otherwise untouched by the red liquid._

_She saw herself, kneeling in front of the mad Harry, a gleaming sword and a rusty blade lying side by side in front of her. Draco was there, too. He reached for the old blade, but she knocked his hand aside and grabbed it herself._

_No._

_No._

_Nonononono. _

_Harry, she tried to say. Harry, why are you crying?_

_And suddenly he was, and the blood was swept away by pools and pools of his tears and with it came rain, so heavy she was being smothered by it. The swords in front of her were swept away, and her hand, latched to the rusty blade, sped off. She glared at the stump left and stood, swaying slightly before she fell into the rushing river._

_Someone caught her._

_She could see the sky, the blue, blue sky, and Genevieve running through it, eyes wide and face clear of any darkness. She was blonde and wearing a pinafore, and she was holding someone's hand._

_She saw herself again, reaching towards Genevieve, her comrade and her rival, and everything was a sudden, sparkling burst of yellow and blue._

_Sunshine dappled the leaves of a forest so bright she couldn't see, and she was momentarily dazzled by the light before she saw Tynan, robed in resplendent red, wandering the woods, hands clutching the once beautiful blonde locks and eyes filled with grief._

"_My life," the Malfoy heiress screamed. "My life, my life, my life!"_

_An ocean grew around them both, and as the tide ebbed away, so did the feeling of exhaustion._

_She was plunged into the darkness of her mind once more.

* * *

_

Bellatrix watched as Luna tossed fitfully, eyes open and clouded over, body convulsing. She was, as a Seer, supposed to be given medicine to suppress the amount of visions she would have.

But Tynan did not care.

Tynan had her Seer, and her princeling and everything she could ever want, so she could afford not to care.

* * *

Rabastan stared at Draco and Genevieve. The latter had just stopped jumping off and down on the loveseat, face still flaming from her tirade.

"Well," Rabastan said, calm settling back on his face again. "I hadn't expected you to get captured this quickly, Draco. And Genevieve, how nice to see you. Might I ask what you were doing?"

"She was telling me off about touching her Harry," Draco said. He was leaning on the desk, but it was more for support than anything. "Geez, Bast, you'd think you'd be in Azkaban again right now."

"Fat chance," the white-haired man scoffed. The easy camaraderie between him and Draco was nothing of the sort; it was the only thing they could do. Draco could not escape, and he had no reason to attack Rabastan; at least, not yet.

The doorknob turned slowly and clicked open, swinging the door open to admit a hard-eyed Harry. The princeling had already opened his mouth to say something when he spotted Rabastan, and let out an almost feral growl.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Rabastan cocked his head to the side. "That's not a nice way to put, and hello, Harry."

"It's 'Your Majesty', these days," Harry said just a little bit snobbishly.

"You sure seem a little upset," Rabastan said. "Talked to Tynan?"

Harry's face was suddenly tinted with red. "Don't assume you know me, Rabastan. I want you out of this room, _now_."

"And if I refuse?"

Harry moved so quickly it was as though he hadn't even taken a step; in a moment, he was letting one arm hang lazily over Rabastan's shoulders, and the other was laid in a controlling grip with the other shoulder.

"If you refuse," he said softly, "then you die."

"Beautiful," Rabastan said, and deftly twisted out of the way, looking totally nonchalant about the entire incident. "Then let's see it."

Harry moved forward again, but this time Rabastan managed to dodge it, and they were both suddenly at each other's throats.

It soon became obvious that they were both excellent at hand-to-hand combat; Draco watched with increased interest. Harry's style was undoubtedly something Tynan had taught him, seeming reminiscent of that which Draco had once been encouraged to try. Harry moved with an almost ethereal fluidity and grace, one that made it seem as though he wasn't even trying to dodge.

Rabastan's style was close, but more rabid and uncontrollable. Every move seemed to be an oxymoron; controlled and furious, where he carefully picked his next blow and yet it was way too wild to have been planned.

Harry moved back and was immediately tripped, falling and rolling away before Bast's boot crunched his nose in. In a moment he was standing, green eyes flaming, black hair mussed and bottom lip bleeding from the fall. A little red seeped from the bandages along his chest, visible because he still hadn't put on a shirt and his cloak lay discarded on the floor.

A bead of sweat slid down Rabastan's face, and he charged again, lashing out with balled fists and watching with a slightly dazed smile as the princeling grinned and dodged, striking with an open palm.

"Cheater," Rabastan said softly as he leaned against the wall. One hand clasped his wounded stomach. "Black magic in an open palm? My, Harry, that's a huge change from when I last saw you."

"Shut up," Harry wheezed, and threw one of rolls of bandages still on the table at him. Rabastan dodged it easily and rolled his eyes.

"Pitiful," he said, and leaned back into his stance, wincing as his stomach bled a little more freely.

Draco, who had been watching the fight intently and restraining himself from leaping in, cringed as well. He coughed, a hacking one that caught the attention of everyone in the room. The blond narrowed his eyes in anger at showing such a weakness and tried to hold them in, but it just made the coughing more hacking and violent.

When he drew a pale, slim hand away, there were specks of blood dotting it. Draco stared for a moment before slumping against the desk and his coughing started up again.

"Idiot," Rabastan hissed, and hobbled over. He tipped the Malfoy's head back and turned to Harry. "Did you finish bonding yet? Before this, I mean. My magic was too weak in Hogwarts to feel anything if you did."

"We didn't," Harry said wryly. "Trust me. Magic or no, I'm supposed to be having a very strong bonding process with him."

"Cute," Rabastan replied shrewdly. "But when did you complete the last step?"

"I don't know," Harry said impatiently. "Before Christmas? Listen, am I still going to kill you or do you want to just leave? What's with all the questions?"

"He's going to _die_," Rabastan said. Harry nearly shrugged before remembering the passage in the book Ginny had found and read to him.

_After The Kiss, an Urian has three to four months in between each bond to complete the next until they are fully finished. If they are not completed, the Urian blood will take it as a rejection and, thinking they failed their mate, they will slowly die._

Harry's eyes narrowed into slits, and they became the opaque pupils he had whenever he was thinking hard about something. Genevieve, who had been silent up until then, flopped onto the couch despondently.

"Great," she said miserably. "Ten days until Harry's birthday, and he's nearly eight months overdue for some sort of crisis. I'm quite proud, actually."

"Shut up," Draco muttered, and then scrambled around to the other side of the desk and retched. Rabastan leaned over to look while he ran his nimble fingers along his body, healing himself as he spoke.

"That's quite a bit of blood. You'll die pretty soon, especially now that your mate is basically constantly rejecting you."

"Thanks for making it all my fault," Harry said dryly as he wrapped his cloak around his body and pressed part of it to his lip to stop the flow of blood.

"It _is_ all your fault," Genevieve murmured into the pillow.

"I thought you were on his side," Rabastan said curiously. The succubus shook her head.

"When he's being sensible. Right now, I just lost a good person to rant to and, also, I knew Draco from a while back. He was okay when he wasn't trying to ruin my whole entire life."

"Didn't you have a crush on him?"

Harry glared irately at the two. "Listen, I am going to go find out what's going on with Luna, then I am going to go find out what I can do about D—the prisoner and then I am going to fucking _kill_ you for making my life so fucking _miserable_."

* * *

But Tynan, as it was, had suddenly become unreachable. Harry, in a foul mood, had retired to the throne room without Genevieve, who was the one who usually frequented it because of all the raucous and loud people and beasts in there.

Luna had returned partway through his absence, limping slightly and with bandages around her hands and forehead.

"Hey, took you long enough," Genevieve said as she pulled lightly at a golden curl. "What did she do to you?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Luna said dismissively. Genevieve scoffed, and Luna felt a twinge of annoyance. The girl was, of course, a succubus and thus would know exactly what had happened.

"What'd you See?" the dark-haired girl asked as she picked idly at a loose thread on the couch. "And what can you foretell?"

"It's not the same thing?" Luna asked wearily as she sat down next to her friend slash arch nemesis.

"Of course not," Genevieve said, sitting up slightly. "When you See, it's all a muddle mess of things, right? Well, foretelling is interpreting the mess for what it is, and it comes in bits and snatches. You understand some things right away and others as they come. What did you understand right away?"

Luna was silent for a moment, and her wide blue eyes went glassy. Genevieve was about to change the subject when the other girl finally spoke.

"There will be bloodshed. And people we care about will die."

Genevieve stiffened before relaxing and nodding, dark black curls bobbing as she wrapped a finger in one. "Well, I could have told you that," she said.

* * *

Harry nodded to a daemon that pranced up to him and demanded more wine. He flicked his wrist slightly and a flask appeared and was greedily grasped by the daemon, who glided away immediately afterwards.

"Troubled, sire?" A voice asked him.

Harry turned to see Tynan standing ominously over him. He made as if to rise and bow, but she waved him down.

"No need, no need. Luna is back in the room you three were staying in, if you wish to know, and though it may take a while for me to understand some of her Seeing it will all end up well."

"What did she See?" Harry asked quietly.

Tynan's eyes twinkled oddly. "You've got a connection, Harry. Now that she's seen it, you can as well, although I'm starting to severely doubt she will have enough strength to live long past your birthday."

"Really?" Harry said nonchalantly, but his eyes were already narrowing as he forced himself to concentrate. "And how long will I be able to do this for?"

"Until the vision ends," Tynan drawled. "And I have no idea when that may be. Oh, and I suggest that you find some way to keep Draco alive until then. He's with his father at the moment, locked away in some room. Tidget will keep an eye on them."

"I don't like that elf—" Harry started to say, but apparently his efforts had paid off. He convulsed suddenly, as though taken by seizure, and then slumped against the chair.

Tynan played with his hair and watched as the frenzied activity in front of her picked up. The demons and Dark beasts in here could sense what she could not; the end was near, and although she had her doubts, it was undoubtedly up to Harry.

He smiled in his sleep.

* * *

_Darkness had crept over Hogwarts, and Luna was kneeling against the wall, cradling a bloody stump of a hand to her chest._

"_Harry?" she said softly. "You shouldn't be here. This is my world."_

_He scoffed and moved forward, then frowned when he realized he couldn't. He looked down and saw hands, pulling at his legs and carrying him deeper underground. He started to beat at them as they clawed his legs, turning his body to ribbons, and then—_

_He was standing in the middle of his dormitory, face still streaked with dirt and blood pouring from his body._

"_Neville?" he heard himself whisper. Was that Neville? Was that pile of burning ashes really the boy whose Remembrall he had rescued ages ago?_

_From the corner of the room there was an illuminating glow, coming from the same trunk that had all of Harry's old things in it. The glow was green, and steadily spreading. Without a thought, he walked over to it and opened the trunk._

_Two necklaces, intertwined and with their amulets beating as though they were hearts stared back at him. He couldn't, for the life of him, recognize them, but there was a sudden noise behind him._

_Tynan was standing in the doorway, eyes flashing and angry as she pushed Luna aside and shoved her into a bed, which crumbled over her. Harry opened his mouth to cry out and then saw Luna emerging, holding onto Genevieve's hand, both of them ignoring him and heading for the open window._

_Don't jump!_

_He couldn't talk anymore, and he reached blindly inside the trunk, groping for the necklaces with both hands. With one hand he drew out the necklace with the dark amulet in its center, and with the other, a shining, gleaming sword. _

_Blood poured under the doorway, and in the frothing bubbles, in the foam of the blood, Harry saw Draco's anguished eyes staring at him. He stood up and started screaming._

_Luna stood on the windowsill and turned around to look at him, eyes clear and face hidden by her hair. "Jump," she said, and then took a grand leap._

_Harry watched her fall and then sank into the blood, eyes shining with unshed tears. In the back of his mind, something told him someone caught Luna and Genevieve, and he scrambled to the window, aware of Tynan coming behind him._

_He jumped out and fell.

* * *

_Harry shot up, breathing heavily.

It took him only moments to assure himself he was not kneeling in blood or squashed on the castle grounds, but instead was wrapped in the blankets of the bed in the room he had first been placed in when he'd arrived. Nestea was sitting in the chair beside him, like she had been that first night, eyes red-rimmed as though she'd been crying.

Harry shook his head to rid himself of the images still rushing across his mind, and then stopped short. It took him a second to remember how to move, but when he did his hand quickly plunged down into his shirt to draw out what had shaken with his head.

Around his neck was the necklace from the dream, or one of them.

"Nice jewelry," said a voice, and he turned. His eyes widened even more as he stared at the person who was sitting on his desk, hands chained and eyes gaunt.

"Sirius?" he said, feeling his heartbeat speed up.

The man stood up and grinned widely as he approached his godson's bed. "The one and only, Harry Potter. I've traveled a long way to do this."

And then he punched Harry.

* * *

Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!

Yes, I'm alive.

No, I'm not updating anything else but this till it's done.

Yes, that's in a few more chapters (I say something like three).

No, I'm bot putting anything on hiatus.

Yes, it's because I've got half of the chapter for Objective typed up, a plot line actually forming for 50 Things and part of one for finishing Overshadowing Padders.

And to my anonyluffs, well, I love thou all very much, but finals and graduation rehearsals do not agree with me, whilst Fall Out Boy and Creme De Leche do, which is probably the only reason this chapter is typed on time, as well as a bad habit for watching so many Naruto episodes that I'm now up to 149 in less than...um...some time that is not normal for a normal human being.

And um, yea, just in case you wanted to know, this is TWENTY PAGES worth of spamalot in this little document here, and it took me a whole day and these past few. It's nice and long, but if I don't get reviews that are vaguely the same lentgh, I will throw a tantrum and kill my teddy bear again.

Oh, damn it all, I seem to have become a cynical and hated review whore.

I need ice cream.

* * *


	25. Vive L'Aristocracy

Disclaimer: No maaaaaaaan's land.

* * *

_this story's getting old  
a homebreaker with a heart of gold  
keep you locked up in the trunk of my mind  
k-k-keep talking  
keep this alive  
this story's getting old  
a homebreaker with a heart of gold  
keep you locked up in the trunk of my mind n-n-now-oh-oh-oh. _**  
**

- Snitches and Talkers Get Stitches and Walkers - Fall Out Boy

* * *

** vive l'aristocracy **

**issalee

* * *

**

Lucius bared his teeth slightly as Draco cracked an eye open, immediately warning the younger Malfoy that he was still dangerous.

"Father," Draco said, almost idly, as though he hadn't just woken up from one of the most terrifying dreams in his life. He took a moment to think about that, and then shuddered slightly; it hadn't been a dream. Rabastan was here, he was dying, and Harry was going to be the next Dark Lord. It would be funnier if it weren't true.

"Draco," Lucius replied, equally cordial. "I trust Tynan has informed you of what is taking place around the castle?"

"Enough so that my plots to escape have been delayed, unfortunately."

"Clever," Lucius said dryly. "And what, my son, did you think of your mate's future?"

Draco stiffened, and narrowed his eyes. "What do you think of yours, Father?"

"What are you talking about?" The reply came a little too quickly, and Draco smirked inwardly; he had touched a sensitive subject.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about, and I wish you'd just let it out." Draco sat up, wincing a little. "What did you do to Mother? And why? She's not dead, I know that for sure now."

Lucius scowled. "You ask too many questions."

"But you're going to answer them."

For a moment, Draco fancied maybe Lucius was going to kill him, but then the elder Malfoy merely smirked. "Very well, Draco. I didn't kill your mother. I couldn't bring myself to, unfortunately, but Tynan understood. So we tortured her instead."

Any last vestiges of hope left that maybe his father had loved his mother were ripped from Draco in an instant. "What did you say?" he said, finding sudden difficulty in swallowing.

Lucius picked at a stray thread on the couch. "I said, we _tortured_ her. Nothing too great, you understand, but it was enough. You see, Draco, I used to love your mother. So much, that it still pains me now, which is why I couldn't kill her. But she didn't love me." Here his voice turned into a snarl.

"She only married me because she _had_ to, and at first, I respected that, but I soon grew to resent it. I saw her longing after another man; he wanted her too. Listen to me carefully, Draco, your mother was good for nothing. She tried to run away to this man, but I found her, and I chained her to me. What I did at the beginning of your school year was what I've been wanting to do for ages now."

Draco's hands were balled into fists, so tightly that he drew blood on them. As the warm liquid trickled down his fingers, a pain began to build up in his chest. For this whole journey, he'd never once felt so terribly as he did now, but everything was managing to sink in at once. His father hated him. His mate hated him. His mother was dead to him forever.

"You—you said you didn't kill her," he started shakily, taking a deep breath.

"Ah," Lucius said, cold eyes turning to his son. "I didn't, because where you have failed me, Draco, she has given me another chance to succeed in this world."

Draco didn't understand; he lifted his head and stared at his father—no, this _man_ who had taken away so much from him. "What—" he started, and then suddenly comprehension dawned on him.

Without any thought to his illness or how weak he was, Draco lunged forward, hands outstretched and fingers tingling with power as they wrapped around his father's throat. Never had he felt anger so great in his life; never had he felt the urge to murder so deeply.

"You _bastard_!" he shrieked. "How could you! You fucking _bastard_, I hope you rot in hell and that the birds pick at your eyes while you scream to your fake Lord! Remember her, dad, your _younger sister_!"

Lucius gazed up at him, eyes strangely cold and empty as he easily deflected all of Draco's blows and sent him a stunning hit, forcing the blond to hit the ground with an audible _thud_. Lucius stood up and removed invisible dirt from his cloak.

"I used to love you, once, Draco," he said quietly. "As recently as that raid on Hogwarts, but I have watched you, and you are not the son I once knew. Whether or not Tynan is more powerful than me is not your concern. You are no son to me," he said, suddenly angry. He strode out of the room, shutting the door with a soft click.

Draco was left lying on the floor, with tears prickling in his eyes and feeling like he couldn't breath as he gasped for air. He was going to die here, he realized, and no one would be the wiser. He was going to die and if Harry lived, they'd never remember him as anything more than a strategically placed dot on the color-coded horizon.

* * *

Harry touched a hand to his throbbing cheek warily. Carefully, he forced back the tears that were threatening to spill over as he turned his head to stare in disbelief at his godfather. Nestea was awake and standing, one hand over her mouth and eyes wide in shock. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"How _dare_ you," he began, but then Sirius slapped him. Harry scowled for not interpreting the move sooner before he held up a hand.

"If you touch me," Sirius said, face no longer playful and arms crossed, "Harry Potter, I will make sure that you die the most horrible death a person can, and I will _not_ feel bad about it in the least."

Harry stared and then shrugged indifferently. He could deal with Sirius, but now questions begging to be answered ran through his mind. He picked the first one.

"How…?"

Sirius smirked. "Oh, that's easy. The Veil, Harry, once it has swallowed up people, keeps them in a state of suspended animation. I was hovering between life and death while it examined me."

"Examined—you?"

"It's sort of alive," Sirius said jovially. "And really evil, too. It told me that it liked my soul, and that it had sort of patched it up. The Veil wanted another one, though, to keep it company, a soul as crazy as its own malicious self. So I made a trade; give me two weeks and I'll find you someone, I said. I was planning on Voldemort, but then, who do I come across but my old friend Remus, who says that he's long gone and there's a new Dark Lord in town."

"You—" Harry frowned. "You and Remus came here?"

"It wasn't easy," Sirius continued cheerfully. "We had to go back at the end of two weeks because I was getting too weak to function outside the Veil, and I asked for another two weeks. It said okay, because, and I quote, 'the scent of great evil is upon thee'. But then we got ourselves captured."

"And you hit me," Harry said, almost disbelievingly. "Why?"

Sirius became stoic once more. "Because whatever it is you think you're doing, Harry, it's wrong. Nothing more could have your parents feel more ashamed of you than they probably are now."

A lump rose in Harry's throat before he shrugged. "They're dead, anyway. Who cares?'

Sirius stiffened visibly. "Don't speak ill of the dead, Harry," he said softly. "It's because of them that you're still alive, remember that."

"Yeah? Well, I'll remember how they left me to live with the Dursleys for most of my life as well, how about that, huh? Was that for me too?" Harry was furious now. "Being locked in the cupboard, being starved, and those _occasional_ beatings? Of course," he said sarcastically. "How could I not see they were for my own good."

"Harry, that wasn't your parent's fault—"

"No," Harry said coldly. "It was Dumbledore's, now wasn't it? And I plan to make it up to him. He's probably going to be heading here to get me back. Instead, the only thing he'll be getting back is his head on a silver platter." His lips curved into a smirk, and Sirius rolled his eyes.

"I almost want to hit you again," he said. "And what's this I hear? Draco Malfoy is your mate?"

"Not anymore," Harry said idly. "On my birthday, which is my crowning day, I'm going to wipe all my memories of him and, at the same time, remove any attachments he might have to me with dark magic. If he hasn't already died, he will then, and I'll be watching as the new Dark Lord."

Sirius stared in barely repressed horror. There was a mad fever in Harry's eyes, one that shone with such ferocity and brightness that he had to avert his own eyes, for fear of the madness in his godson's. He suddenly regretted more than ever his time in the Veil. During his absence, Harry had grown, but in the wrong direction. What was he to do? Remus was locked in a cell, and he'd seen the other children as they watched their slow procession past their cells. He was lucky that he'd managed to slip away in the form of a dog, and that—Sirius glanced at her—the maid had let him in. She was a bit mysterious. Right now she was looking at Harry as though she both wanted to smite him with all her might and at the same time hug him tightly.

What a bunch of lunatics we are, he thought, and then turned back to Harry. "I suppose that's one of your crowning jewels," he said, referring to the necklace.

To his surprise, Harry looked down at it and shook his head. "No," the dark-haired boy said. "It's from a dream."

Harry stared intently at the necklace. It was held on a silver chain, and rested perfectly in the hollow of his collarbone. He stroked the slim silver ring and watched in fascination as it flared slightly. He wondered where it was from, and looked on the back. Engraved it on were a few words, and suddenly, Harry collapsed on the bed.

"Harry!" Sirius was at his side, dispute forgotten as he held his godson down. "Harry, calm down—Harry!"

Nestea was already gone, supposedly to get Tynan. Sirius didn't think about how much trouble he'd get in for having sneaked out, but all he could think of now was Harry, who was writhing violently and gasping for air.

"D—d—dr—" he stuttered, and then broke off as he convulsed again. Sirius grabbed the chain that dangled from his neck and looked at the innocent-looking necklace. On the back, engraved in curvy script were the words:

_For Luck, For Love, For You.

* * *

_

When Draco awoke again, he wasn't sure how long he'd slept. His eyes were caked in sleep sand, and he wiped them furiously as he felt tears well up again. He was lying on the couch again, and this time, someone had cleaned up his injuries. He wondered if it was Nestea, and then he nearly started crying all over again.

Draco rolled over, and then stopped. Something was pressing against his neck; he dropped a hand inside of his shirt and pulled out the amulet that was mysteriously present around his neck. His eyes widened almost comically.

It was the amulet he'd given Harry for Christmas, the one that was like a mood ring. He let it fall against his neck and shivered at the cool touch. In a moment, it grew warm and an image flashed through his mind.

_Harry's expression twisted, but it was wiped quickly off his face as Draco finally righted himself and tossed a pillow in his direction. The blond sat up, and rubbed a hand on his nose._

"_That hurt like hell, Potter. I think I should kill you for that."_

_Harry rolled his eyes. "Do your worst, you juvenile excuse for a Malfoy." He started as Draco glared at him, a true one, which he hadn't seen in weeks. It was enough time for the blond to launch a pillow at him full-force, so strongly that when it hit Harry feathers spilled out from the bag and into the air._

"_Look at all that bird we've wasted," Blaise said sadly, twirling a plume between his fingers. Harry snickered and pointed to both of the Slytherins._

"_You could be one, with all those feathers in your hair."_

"_You should talk, fuzzy."_

"_Excuse me, these are feathers. If anything, I am downy."_

_Draco shook his head and collapsed onto the couch. "You two are useless. I can't believe this is what I might have been stuck doing for the rest of the school year if actual people were coming back tomorrow."_

"_I resent that!" Harry said, blowing irately at a feather on his nose. Draco watched his efforts in obvious amusement. Harry glowered at him. "Make one snide comment, and I swear I'll jump you—and not in the good way."_

_There was a moment's pause, in which Blaise conveniently positioned himself on the side of the couch as Draco cast his eyes down. Harry's triumphant grin was halfway across his face when the blond's soft retort reached his ears._

"_Make me, plebeian." _

Draco's lips quirked in amusement. He remembered that day very clearly. Minutes later, the Gryffindors had returned, hadn't they? The grin stayed on his face for a few more moments before fading.

His hand began to knead his forehead softly as he thought hard. How, he wondered, would he get out of here?

* * *

"Fucking serious?"

Tynan clucked. "Language, Harry, I think I taught you better than that."

But Harry was not to be reasoned with. He was sitting up in bed, with a bandage wrapped around his hand, which had been burnt somehow by the necklace.

"You seriously can't remove this?" He looked down at the necklace again, and Tynan shrugged.

"It is a Ringlink, Harry. I am surprised I am even able to _look_ at it, with all the bad intentions flying through my mind. Probably your mate and you and exchanged it before you were—dropped into my care."

"Excellent," Harry said, leaning back. "I am stuck with a homicidal piece of jewelry around my neck that seems to have made my painful death its life mission."

"Don't mope, darling," Tynan said. "And here, now, did you feel anything else when you were convulsing."

Harry narrowed his eyes slightly. He had. It had felt like his heart was being torn apart, and he felt like he was being slammed repeatedly into a stone wall. Something told him this wasn't his pain, nor his burden, but his heart broke many times over before he could even breathe again.

"No."

Tynan stood. "Well. It's odd that you're lying to me, Harry, but I'm sure you have your reasons. If it's any matter, you've sleep for quite a while. Your birthday's tomorrow."

Harry glanced at her. "Nothing went wrong while I was asleep?"

Tynan's smile widened, and Harry shivered as she shook her head. "Nothing of great importance. We have caught a hint of—a disturbance, if you will, at the edge of the Forest, and we are allowing them to come through. After your crowning tomorrow, it will be the first thing you will take care of."

"And the prisoner?"

Tynan looked at him, and for a moment Harry fancied he saw something almost regretful in them before she shrugged. It was definitely a passing moment, because in the next she was walking fluidly towards the door.

"Whatever it is you do, Harry, it's your fault."

He marveled at the choice of words.

* * *

Nestea was seated on the edge of couch, idly summoning flowers into the air as Genevieve and Luna discussed Luna's visions. The blonde maid was listening intently. She had been, since Luna had started off and told Genevieve about every one of them.

"So we've got that there's a lot of bloodshed, we can foretell that," Genevieve said. "And, of course, something very important concerning a sword will happen. Oh, and you'll lose your hand."

Luna winced. "It could be illusory."

"No," Genevieve said, shaking her head. "This is definitely to be taken literally. It's in every one of your visions, or at least, the ones focusing on you. It's impossible that your hand won't come off, somehow."

Luna looked at her hand; the slim, pale fingers that she had never really thought of as needed, but she was already missing them. "And about you, Genevieve. Something tells me you've got a guardian angel."

"Well, yes, there is that matter," the succubus said. "What did you see again? In the most prominent vision?"

_Genevieve was clinging to his leg, eyes wide and face blood-spattered, but she was otherwise untouched by the red liquid._

"You're kneeling next to Harry," Luna said, furrowing her brows. And he's laughing, like he's gone mad, and Tynan is dead and all the blood—it's coming from here, I think. The only part of you that has blood on it is your face, even though you're kneeling in the stuff."

"That's it?"

_She could see the sky, the blue, blue sky, and Genevieve running through it, eyes wide and face clear of any darkness. She was blonde and wearing a pinafore, and she was holding someone's hand._

_She saw herself again, reaching towards Genevieve, her comrade and her rival, and everything was a sudden, sparkling burst of yellow and blue._

Luna shook her head. "You're in the sky and sprinting—to someone—no, someone is coming to you, and then they're holding your hand. You're dressed like a little girl and you're blonde." Genevieve stiffened at this, and Luna filed the thought away for later use as the succubus waved her on, face pale. "And then I reach for you but everything explodes, in yellow and in blue."

"What's it supposed to mean, then?" Luna asked, as she sat back. There was silence, and both of them muddled through their own thoughts.

"I—I think Genevieve is going to be relinquished of her powers."

"What?" Luna turned sharply. Nestea had a hand over her mouth, as though she could hardly believe she had spoken. "What did you say?"

Nestea swallowed thickly. There was no way out it now, and she berated herself for even thinking she could solve this mess on her own.

"When—when a succubus loses their powers, they're usually given a second chance at life, right? Because they're all born that way. They're all born as dark spirits, with no choice in the matter, and because of the natural order of things if they are somehow stripped of their powers before they die, then they will be given another chance to live. From the first part of your vision—it looks like there will be no blood placed on her hands, and she will be free of the murder, but it is on her face, which could either mean she's seen too much to be innocent or that all the terrible things she's ever done are to be shown to everyone plainly.

"From the second vision, it looks like she's getting her next opportunity to live, and someone is going to give this to her and guide her through it. It's not going to be you, Mistress Luna, seeing as when you tried to help her, she was only taken further from you and all you could do was watch."

When Nestea stopped talking, she was immediately afraid that she'd gone too far. Once she'd started talking she had found it so hard to stop, because everything she had been keeping bottled up inside was pouring out, like water from a jug. Most of what she had said now was half-plots and theories, but they all seemed plausible to her, and she could tell by the look on the young ladies' faces that they were thinking the same thing. The only question was, would they punish her anyway for listening in?

"Eavesdropping is a sin," Genevieve said suddenly, voice dripping of acid. "You understand, don't you, why I must now punish you."

"Yes, Mistress," Nestea whispered, although her stomach felt as though it had just dropped out from under her, and all she could her was her blood rushing through her ears.

"Yes," Luna said. "As punishment, you must help us continue our endeavors into foretelling the meaning of these visions, and you must do whatever it takes to make sure they end up understood."

"Yes, Mistress," the maid said, and suddenly she had to blink back tears.

"Have you anything to offer on the subject of the rushing river of tears and also of the last part of Luna's vision?" Genevieve said quickly. "You remember the last part, right?"

_Sunshine dappled the leaves of a forest so bright she couldn't see, and she was momentarily dazzled by the light before she saw Tynan, robed in resplendent red, wandering the woods, hands clutching the once beautiful blonde locks and eyes filled with grief._

"_My life," the Malfoy heiress screamed. "My life, my life, my life!"_

_An ocean grew around them both, and as the tide ebbed away, so did the feeling of exhaustion._

Nestea glanced down at her lap. Her hands, which, once upon a long time ago used to be too soft to do anything, were rough and the nails had been bitten short. Tynan had her doing the tasks that could be done by hand rather than magic, and even when the baby had been on the way this had only proved as an excuse for her to use her magic sparingly. She couldn't say that what she was thinking wasn't just an act of resentment and hope, that maybe Tynan would get what was coming to her in the end, but then again there wasn't ever much that she could say about anything these days.

"I think," she said slowly, "that Mistress Malfoy will not be winning as much of this battle as she thought she would."

* * *

Harry stared at the ceiling of his room, trying his best to rest as he had been told to, but all his brain seemed to want to do was think.

Everything he had been doing for the past year was leading up to this point in time, tomorrow, his birthday, when he would have to make the choice between being the new Dark Lord or Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world and mate of Draco Malfoy, Urian.

It wasn't fair, he thought, that no matter what position he was in people would be mad, and _oh_ the amount of murder attempts would probably triple. He wasn't sure if that was even what was bothering him.

For as long as he had known, he had always wanted to just help people. There was no way he could help everyone, of course, because with Voldemort's death he had proved just that fact. People who had lived only to serve Voldemort would not appreciate anything they had been given, especially if it was from the great Harry Potter, who had killed their master. Sometimes Harry thought maybe, when he was younger, he had believed that when he killed Voldemort they would find everyone who had served under him would have been under a spell, and everyone would smile and be happy when they realized they were freed, and Harry could stand and be carefree and like a kid again. He pushed thoughts like that to the back of his mind, most of the time, because he wasn't naïve anymore.

But sometimes he would just sit and think.

He was already starting to regain some of his memories, and others were drifting away. Tomorrow, he would lose most of them. Only the highlights of his life would remain—the ones where he would feel the happiest, the most content, anything close to that feeling. Tynan, he knew, had spoiled him during their time together so that there would be even odds, but that wouldn't be enough.

He, as Harry, would have to decide what it was he really wanted. Because, really, when he thought about it, he wasn't so sure he wanted to be the good guy anymore. There had been so many grievances with that side, where everyone had wanted him to be something he was not and to never complain about it. That in itself should have been a warning sign, but Harry was never one to take to things quickly. He, of course, forgave and forgot more often than anyone ever had, and he should be able to take most of the understanding on the subject.

Harry scowled and turned on his side.

There was nothing easy about this, he thought. Dumbledore had always been a meddling old fool. Every movement of Harry's life had been plotted, every moment, waking and sleeping, had been another move in the old fool's plans for him, and what bothered Harry the most was, at first he hadn't minded. Sometimes, he was led to believe maybe Dumbledore had planned the death of his parents as well, maybe to raise support amongst the masses. If Voldemort was not powerful enough to kill a baby, how many supporters would Dumbledore gain then?

But this was not about him and Dumbledore, Harry knew. It was deeper than that. Tynan was using him just like Dumbledore was. Harry, she could not defeat. Harry's most precious gift was that no matter what obstacles were thrown at him, he could defeat all of them in instant, no matter what they were. He had a knack for thinking better in situations that ended up to be life or death, and as well as that, he almost always managed to get everyone else out alive. After school, he would have made a valuable captain in an Auror base, he knew. Kingsley Shacklebolt had told him so.

Harry squinted slightly. If he knew Tynan was using him, just like Dumbledore had been, then why was he still here? There was something even more than that going on here…

He thought about Draco.

Draco, who had been Harry's enemy for the first six years that he had been in the magical world. Every single Dark thing he could come up with had been stuck in that little file in the back of his mind labeled 'Malfoy and Dark Arts', and it had been that way until this year. He supposed it was because he had become more open minded over the summer that he saved Malfoy's life that day by the lake. Or maybe it had been something that was there all along that had prompted them both to do the things they did. Whatever it was, it was always causing problem for them both.

When he was Malfoy's sworn enemy, they had gotten in trouble all the time. Things were always personal wars between them no matter what, in every playing field, both on the quidditch pitch and off.

When they became lovers, it became the most complex, complicated, twisted web of lies and deceit and hatred and love and every other emotion he could think off that he was sure history had ever seen. Between family ties, rivalries, mad aunts and magical disorders, he was sure that nothing he could do would ever possible right this again.

He wondered about his mother. Lily Potter, of the auburn hair and green eyes, who had smiled so charmingly at James Potter and won him over. Lily Potter, who had given her most beloved son a second chance at life, and with it, a curse he would probably be never rid of. Harry wasn't sure which he could wish for more; her to be alive, or her to be dead and for this curse to be lifted off his shoulders, finally.

Sometimes, he hated both of his parents. Why hadn't they let him die? Then he'd be in the afterlife, whatever that was like, but with his parents and forever happy. Before he had felt guilty whenever he thought this in the darkness and safety of his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory, lying amongst the boys that had become his closest confidantes as the years had gone by. Voldemort would have taken over the world for sure by then, and then what good would that be? But it didn't matter now, he thought bitterly. If he didn't do what Voldemort had been about to, Tynan would.

Harry rolled over again. He could spend all night thinking about this and he would probably still come up with one thing. This was all his fault.

He thought about Ron, and all the defeat he had seen in the redhead's eyes. There had been betrayal, as well, and he knew that Tynan had Ron brought up every time Harry had been made to practice his new abilities.

Harry knew they had been kept down in the dungeons and he had refused every time Tynan had suggested they take a stroll down there to show off his powers. He knew they would be at the crowning the next day. There was no way Tynan would lose this chance to make sure people suffered, not ever.

And then there was Sirius, who had been like a second father for the too-short amount of time that they had spent together after they'd broken him out of Azkaban. Why couldn't he understand? If Harry rose to power, he could easily instate Sirius in a position just beneath Luna and Genevieve, and in that way they could be together again, for as long as Harry was alive. He could have even done the same with his friends, but he knew they would never agree. He wondered about Remus. The magic that was warding the entire castle and its grounds, as well as the Forest, would not permit him to transform, even if tonight was to be a full moon. He doubted that mattered to Remus, who would be relieved at this and maybe a little anxious when the change did not come.

Harry snorted softly into the pillow as he imagined Remus dancing in celebration, and then his features softened into a smile as he lay on his back again.

Oh, yes. This was going to be a tough decision indeed.

* * *

Draco opened his eyes and groaned. He had been moved, again.

He recognized this place, if vaguely, from when he had been dragged through on his way in. It was the main throne room, and, for some reason, the tables of food and all the jeering demons had disappeared, to where he wasn't sure.

He had been chained and shackled to a pillar in the very middle of the long walkway that led up to the thrones, and he felt too exhausted to even open his eyes tomorrow. He doubted if he was going to live past tomorrow.

His wings, once a dark, vibrant green, looked like a dirty black instead, and he winced as he shifted, Hunger had never hit him so great, and he wondered if this was why he kept sleeping (he refused to admit that he was fainting). He wondered if there were any strawberries in the castle, and then that brought him to musing; what _was_ Harry's first, most favorite food?

"Harry," he called aloud, knowing the dark haired boy couldn't hear him, and not caring. "Harry, my mother is alive. Harry, Harry, Harry, my father raped her."

He was so tired, and everything was falling apart around him. He had no idea where his friends were, and he had no idea if they were alive. For all he knew, his father had gone off in a fit of murderous rage and killed his mother. He was not going to survive this ordeal, like he had all his others.

He wanted to strain against the bonds that held him, made him unable to do anything, and he wanted to stab Harry in the neck and giggle in glee as all that blood poured out of his mate's throat.

He wanted to strain against the bonds that held him, made him unable to do anything, and he wanted to drag Harry to him and kiss the boy so senseless neither of them would ever be able to breath again.

Harry was never going to pick Draco over anything else. In all of his life, he should have known that. How many times had they fought over stupid things, useless things like quidditch matches and girls and—oh, they had laughed over that—who got the shovel when they had to help Hagrid during their detentions? Harry had always gone back to his friends, migrated back into himself, and left Draco with boiling feelings that had never simmered down and never boiled over either.

Sometimes, Draco wanted to yell at Harry that everything was not fucking okay, no one was going to live happily ever after, and really, neither of them would be content with their lives after Hogwarts, because they had each become constants in the other's existence. It would be better, than, if Harry lived on and Draco died, because in that way nothing they had done would have been in vain, totally.

Draco had no doubts that everyone would eventually conform to Harry's rule. He would hide all of the darker aspects of himself until he had such absolute power that no one would question him, and then he would wreak havoc upon the earth.

The chains clanked noisily as he shifted, and Draco was thrown back into his despair once more. He could do nothing but wait until tomorrow, the inevitable, and final moment.

Tomorrow was his dying day.

* * *

In the Forest, Dumbledore spoke softly to the masses of wizards and witches gathered at his side. He had lied to Minerva to calm her down. Tomorrow would be a war, one that neither of them would have been able to stop anyway.

"We will infiltrate the fortress shortly after noon, if our calculations are correct."

"But we can't use our magic," someone called out.

"I shall be working on removing the wards," Dumbledore replied. "Severus Snape shall be helping me with that, won't you, Severus?"

The greasy-haired man scowled irritably as attention was drawn to him. Everyone had been skeptical enough about his coming here, but come on, now everyone was just going to die of doubtfulness at this rate. Leaving their precious leader behind with Snape? Never! Dumbledore's voice interrupted Snape from his musings.

"…and we will also attempt to liberate all those in the dungeons. Nymphadora Tonks will be only one allowed on this mission, as we cannot spare anyone else and her stealth will be a great asset in this part of the mission."

"What about Harry Potter, sir?"

Dumbledore stared at the man who had asked. "What about him?"

"What shall we do with him, sir?"

Dumbledore stared even harder. The man quailed under his gaze, and Snape shook his head. Trust an old man like Dumbledore to keep his wits about him when it came to the boy.

"Leave Harry to me. I doubt at this point in time any of you will even be able to scratch him, anyways."

Snape rolled his eyes.

Dumbledore just _always_ had to have the last word.

* * *

Luna followed Genevieve as they silently made their way down the halls of the castle. It was only a few hours until midnight, and they were attempting to prove a second prophecy.

With Nestea's help, they had deciphered a final part of Luna's visions. The swords, which had been given to both her and Draco, needed to be found, and found quickly.

It didn't take long to come to the conclusion that Tynan was going to fight a losing battle, and Luna and Genevieve were not loyal to her, only Harry. It was not that hard a decision to decide that whatever they would do, they would thwart her plans and help Harry in his endeavors.

"We could be killed if we are found out, you know that, right?" Luna said.

Genevieve only nodded.

After having described the swords, Luna had been startled when Nestea had told her what they were.

The swords were the only possession of Salazar Slytherin's that the Malfoys had possessed. At least, the gleaming sword was. The other rusty sword was something that had been passed down the family for generations, although its significance had been forgotten for quite a while already.

Luna wondered about their choice. She looked down at her hand again, and flexed the fingers. The sword was going to do this to her, maybe, and here she was looking for it. Laughter burbled inside her chest and she forced it down as they stopped suddenly. She looked up and frowned.

"This isn't the lower castle," the blonde whispered.

"I know," Genevieve said softly. "Recognize this? It's Bellatrix's room. But she's not in there," the succubus added quickly as Luna stiffened. "She's with Tidget, and they're checking to make sure that Draco's still alive."

"What are we doing here?" Luna hissed irritably. She was getting a headache—she hadn't taken her potion since before the visions had started coming, and she had spent the past few days sleeping on and off. She had no idea what Genevieve had done during that time, since she'd heard Harry had done the same. Strangely, no oncoming memories were hitting her despite the absence of the magical restraint.

"We're going to get the rest of your soul back," Genevieve said, almost proudly. "See, if Bellatrix uses it against you tomorrow you could die, and we couldn't have that, now could we?"

Luna stared at her. The dark-haired girl's eyes were rimmed with kohl, like her own, but everything in them was different. They were both exact opposites; like Draco and Harry, almost. Genevieve had teased her and made her life miserable since long before Harry had arrived, and she had always been somewhat envious of the succubus, but not now. Luna wondered what sins the girl felt she had to atone for, if she was taking such a big risk, and for her rival, for that matter.

"Hello? Are we going or not?"

Life was really at its most awkward for her.

Genevieve's eyes widened in surprise as Luna wrapped her arms around the older girl, eyes closed and breathing oddly erratic.

"Thank you," Luna whispered.

Genevieve didn't say anything, only waited until Luna had calmed herself down, and then she opened the door to Bellatrix's room and slipped inside. Behind her, Luna shut it with a soft _click_.

The room was sparse of any decoration, save for the tapestries and portraits that had been there when the castle had been taken over. A bed with crimson hangings was situated on the west wall, and opposite it was a vanity table. There was a door next to that, presumably leading to the bathroom. Luna crept to it and opened it, looking curiously around the stale white color of the bathroom. She shivered as a breath of cold air rushed past her and shut the door quickly.

"Hurry up and let's get out of here," the Lovegood child said quietly. Genevieve was on top of the armoire, and leaning dangerously over to grab at something on top of the window ledge.

"How do you know it's there?"

"Bellatrix knows no one would dare steal from her, and besides, this is warded against any human except for Tynan and herself. I'm not human, and she doesn't care about me, which is why the last time she gave you back your soul I got to be there and watch."

"So what are you getting?" Luna asked as Genevieve snagged something and fell quickly. The succubus tumbled and sat up, looking a little woozy. In her hand was a golden and silver flask, through which one could see whorls of blue and white inside.

"This," Genevieve said, as she stood up and walked over to her friend, "is your essence. It will return you to your normal state of being, and hopefully allow you to get all of your memories back."

Luna stared as Genevieve pried her hand open and put the flask inside of it. "Drink it quickly," the succubus started, but stopped just as suddenly. Footsteps were coming, and without a second thought she grabbed Luna's hand and flew towards the window.

"Just transport out of here!" Luna told her as they scrambled onto the sill. She received an odd sense of déja vu and felt dizzy.

_Harry opened his mouth to cry out and then saw Luna emerging, holding onto Genevieve's hand, both of them ignoring him and heading for the open window._

_Don't jump!_

"Genevieve," she began, but stopped as the succubus flung the windows open wide. They both looked down at the ground, some dizzying yards away.

"I can't—I can't transport with people," Genevieve said, swallowing thickly. They could hear voices, now. It sounded like Bellatrix and Rabastan were discussing something.

"Leave me behind," Luna said hoarsely. "Jump and go, I can make something up. Bellatrix will—she'll—she won't hurt me anymore than she has already."

Genevieve looked at her, then, eyes full of hurt. "You won't ever tell anyone what she does to you, will you, Luna Lovegood? It will never leave those lips of yours, not as long as you live."

Luna opened her mouth.

_Luna stood on the windowsill and turned around to look at him, eyes clear and face hidden by her hair. "Jump," she said, and then took a grand leap._

She shivered against the wind and then turned to her friend. "I'm sorry," she said, and grabbed Genevieve's hand so as to push her. But the succubus caught on quickly, and they both wrestled for power until they heard the door opening.

"Go!" Luna hissed, but Genevieve only smiled as she stepped off the side of the building. Luna toppled forward, a silent scream leaving her mouth as she lost sight of Bellatrix's window.

"After you," Genevieve whispered.

The ground loomed up to meet them, a giant maw of dirt and leaves and grass as they tumbled through the sky.

In her room, Bellatrix Lestrange closed a window and sat on her bad.

* * *

Sirius was grinning widely as the guards threw him in the cell opposite Remus. He waved at his friend, who sighed morosely.

"Padfoot, you're killing me here," Remus said softly. His eyes were shining with worry and relief, though, which Sirius doubted was impossible when it came to Remus.

"I saw Harry," he began. "He's changed more than we ever thought."

"And he knows about the whole curse-spell?"

"Well," Sirius said, twirling straw idly through his fingers, "yes. Hey, did you know that if you make straw dolls out of this, it'll end up as a really good spell!"

"Sirius!"

"Sorry. But the point is, I don't know what we're going to do about him, Rem. And get this—he's wearing a Ringlink around his neck! But when he touched it, he started off shaking like he was having a seizure."

Remus needed only to look at Sirius's haunted eyes to know that his friend was being totally somber. "Well, it's a Ringlink. They only really work as long as the love is pure, remember?"

"This is stupid," Sirius said, sitting down on his pile of straw and looking morose. "I don't know why I ever thought I could do anything. Rem, you didn't have to sit there with me and listen to him talk. Anyone else would think he'd gone mad, but he's not mad. Everything he said was logical, it was more like he was himself but—he hadn't yet realized there was still good left in the world!"

Remus dragged a hand through his now mousy hair. "I don't know what we can do but wait, Sirius. I mean, think about it—we're locked into cells opposite of each other, none of our magic works, and I can't even transform. This won't bode well with my body afterwards, I expect."

"You'll probably go into shock," Sirius said. "Maybe when you change, you might even be in more pain than usual. This place is crap, Remus."

The werewolf leaned his head back. He couldn't see the full moon but he could definitely feel it. The wolf inside of him was bathing in the light right now, howling an baying and clawing at his soul in the hopes of getting out soon.

"What about the straw dolls, Sirius?"

Sirius glanced at him, and then shrugged. "Nothing, really. Legend says that if you make one hundred thousand of them, all identical, and you give the first one you made to someone it'll protect them in one life threatening case. The doll stays with you, although no one can see it but yourself. You cam make as many hundred thousands as you like, but it won't matter in the end if the person you're facing off against is persistent enough, and besides that the dolls are each for a different purpose."

"You read too many odd books, Sirius."

The man smiled.

* * *

At Hogwarts, McGonagall had commissioned the seventh years that were currently on probation for letting Draco and the others to leave to help her in searching for Mrs. Norris, who had disappeared. The only reason they were still hanging about after school had ended anyway was because they had wanted to, and besides, they were legally adults now.

Seamus was muttering under his breath about 'demon cats' as they followed the winding staircases down into the dungeons. Someone had said they'd seen Mrs. Norris by the Slytherin common rooms.

"I bet you she's in Filch's office right now, purring under his lap."

"Or doing more than that," said Dean, who was accompanying him. Neville was holding the lantern for them, although he seemed more frightened of their current location than the other two.

"D—do we really have to be down here?" he said softly. "Can't we just say we looked and go back to class?"

Dean and Seamus exchanged looks and grinned.

"Nah, mate," Seamus said, winking roguishly as they entered a long aisle with cells on either side. "We can't, because then that would mean we weren't doing our job right, now would it?"

Neville shivered as his eyes roamed the poorly lit and damp units. "Wasn't—wasn't Rabastan Lestrange kept in here? Before he—escaped?"

"Yeah," Dean said absentmindedly. "Look, his door's still open." He pointed to it, but Seamus was already off and running, curiosity shining in his eyes. The Irish boy stopped just outside of the room and peered in.

"Oh, mate, you've got to see this!" he cried out.

"What is it?" Dean said, looking into the surround cellblocks to make sure the stupid cat wasn't in there. Neville whimpered.

"Just come and see, this is fascinating!"

Dean rolled his eyes. If Seamus would go and use a word like that, then this must be a joke. But he walked over anyway, if only out of interest.

"What was it—" he started, and then stopped. "Damn, that Lestrange guy was one weird Death Eater."

"Yeah," Seamus said softly. He stared at the room a little longer before turning to walk away. There was nothing more in the dungeons and they let quickly, to Neville's relief.

And Rabastan Lestrange's cell, his home for months, was left in the dark. Covering the floors and his cot and hanging on the walls and piled high were straw dolls; hundreds of them. They were stuffed into the window and under the bed and, the mattress was probably filled with them too. Some had probably even been taken away with him. The amount of straw needed to make them was considerable.

It would explain the lack of straw in the other cells, though.

* * *

Luna groaned when she woke up, shaking in the cold air. She sat up with an old, practiced feeling. She winced. She really had been in too many battles for her own good. Quickly, the Ravenclaw checked herself over. She was dirty and sore, and her wrist felt as though it was nearly sprained. It was swelling already, and she hissed before quickly running her fingers over it; the perks of being Harry's concubine was an allowance of some magic, mainly healing and for entertainment values.

"Ow," a voice said, permeating the dark and startling her before she remembered.

Genevieve.

"Hey," she called. "Are you okay?"

There was a rustling of fabric, and then the acrid taste in her mouth of the magic as Genevieve changed into something different, probably so that she could move more freely. Luna suddenly felt jealous and forced herself to stand, ignoring the dizziness, just as her friend materialized in front of her.

"We are _so_ awesome!" Genevieve crowed, just remembering to keep her voice down. "Did you see what I did?"

She sounded like a little kid, and Luna smiled, pleasantly surprised at this new side of her. "No, I didn't. I was too busy trying to not throw up and also to hang on to—" She stopped, and her eyes widened as she dropped to the ground.

"Where's the flask?" she whispered harshly. Genevieve fell to her knees beside her and held out a hand. Luna stared before snatching the flask out of it and cradling it to her chest protectively. "How…?"

"It was next to me when I woke up," the succubus said. "I'm guessing that it either rolled over to me or I grabbed it by accident when I was aiming for your hand."

Luna looked at her, and then the flask. Carefully, she tucked it into her dress, suddenly glad for her newfound cleavage.

"Why are you blushing?"

"Shut it," Luna said heatedly. She stood up. "I won't drink it until tomorrow, in case something happens."

Genevieve looked surprised, but then she just nodded. "So now we've got the task of getting back into the castle. Hey, did you _really _not see what I did?"

Luna shook her head, no.

"I transported!" She held up a hand. "I know, I said I couldn't do it with anyone before. Well, I can't actually _go_ anywhere, but I remembered how you witches and wizards Apparate, right? All I did was wait till we were as close to the ground as we could stand, and then I tried to transport myself to a spot just above it. It sort of worked, except that we fell harder and faster, which is probably why we were knocked out."

"Ouch," Luna said, but she was smiling. "Okay, so let's get back inside."

"Do you know how?"

Blue eyes held black ones appraisingly, and suddenly they were both hyper-aware of what they were doing, now and later. Luna shook her head.

"No, but I'm sure we'll figure it out."

Genevieve grinned back.

* * *

Harry was lying to himself.

He wasn't going to do anything more than check to make sure the prisoner was still there, he had said when he snuck out of his room. That had been ages ago, and so far all he'd done was stare. _At what?_

The silvery hair that was translucent in the moonlight, igniting a maelstrom of emotions in him and a sudden urge to run his fingers through them. He wondered briefly if this was what he should be avoiding at this point, especially considering the fact that he was now basically the new Dark Lord and it was too late to do anything anyway. But he wasn't sleeping tonight, and if he weren't here his body would lead him down to the dungeons to talk to some of his former friends, anyway. It was, he believed, the lesser of two evils.

"Damnit," he cursed in the dark, and slid onto another beam.

He was on the ceiling, reveling in what felt like his natural habitat. Catlike, he stretched out and dropped quickly, turning in time to stop himself from breaking a leg or something worse. He barely made any noise, and no magic was involved. He supposed that if he had never joined Tynan, it would have taken a while but he still would have been able to do something like this.

Carefully, still on all fours, he approached the huddled form that was tied to the pillar. It was odd, now, being alone in the room that, for as long as he had known it, had been laced with bad intentions and raucous partying and laughter. Odd, indeed.

He was letting his breath ghost all over Draco's face, letting their noses bump as he contemplated the boy in front of him. He snorted lightly at the wings; what did he think he was, some sort of fallen angel? Although—he did fit the description perfectly. Harry lifted a finger and traced it down a pale cheek.

"I know you're awake," he said, quietly. "So open your eyes."

There was no movement.

Harry leaned forward and pressed his lips to the pale, cold ones. Instantly, an electric spark went through the both of them, and there was a thrum of magic. Doubtless, anyone with honed abilities in the castle would have felt that. Harry grimaced as he pulled away and cursed under his breath.

"Couldn't resist?"

The dark-haired boy glared. Draco's eyes were heavy, as though he couldn't be bothered to keep them open. He had a pouty expression on his face and his eyes were slightly swollen, resulting in the bags underneath to become even more visible.

"Couldn't resist my ass," Harry said, and scowled irritably. He didn't sense anyone coming, though, and that was good. He wondered about Luna and Genevieve. They should have felt that, unless they were knocked out or something.

"No, I can't," Draco said, and smirked. It was more like a twitching of the lips, but Harry recognized it for what it was and he sat down heavily, crossing his legs and arms. He was acting childish and immature, but he couldn't care less. Something about the other boy infuriated him to the point of nearly driving him crazy.

"Oh, Harry, touch me," Draco said mockingly. There was mad light shining in his eyes and he leaned forward, ignoring the shackles at the clanked noisily. Harry's eyes narrowed. He wasn't sure it had been the lesser of two evils, after all. Draco was staring at him hungrily, and his fangs suddenly looked dangerous. Harry knew, if worst came to worst, he could beat Draco to a pulp and not feel bad about it. But he wasn't going to do anything unless the blond threw the first punch.

"Well?"

Against his better judgment, Harry leaned back in and kissed him again, forcefully. Their lips ground together as though they were still young, inexperienced in what to do and still wondering if this was proper, but it didn't matter because now Harry's fingers were running through the silvery hair and he was enjoying this way too much for someone who was going to kill him the next day.

"I am going to murder you," he said softly, as he nipped lightly at Draco's neck. "I will make you scream in anguish when I kill your friends first, and then I will bring you down so badly that you won't even be able to scream anymore when it's your turn. And I will _laugh_."

"I know," Draco breathed, eyes closed as Harry's skilled tongue explored the shell of his ear. There was magic everywhere, and he opened his eyes. He could _see_ it, a melding of colors everywhere and a humming that was growing in intensity as their make-out session progressed. He moaned, more in awe then for what was going on, and then Harry laughed against his neck.

"No, you don't, but that's okay." He drew back and uncrossed his legs. Dark green eyes regarded Draco silently, and then the dark-haired boy scooted forward as his hand caressed Draco's cheek.

"We aren't going to get far, pet."

"I don't care," Draco bit out, already starting feel tired. He perked up slightly as Harry's hands slid down his body, holding onto a slim waist as he started to rock forward. When had he gotten in Draco's lap?

The colors were everywhere, and there were lightly colored sparks floating. Draco couldn't concentrate on Harry—only the sparks, which were beginning to take shapes. He couldn't feel anything anymore; just see the sparks, igniting themselves. There was a flower, and there was a—a woman, and another was himself, and he was sure he was going insane, but then Harry stopped as well and looked up.

He looked disdainful at first, eyes still heavily hooded with desire, but then they widened. He was staring at one distinct whorl of magic, quickly fluttering into something—a butterfly. The most beautiful butterfly Draco had ever seen in his life, flapping its large wings and flying forward until it pushed itself into Draco's hair, becoming tangled. Draco reached up wordlessly, and the butterfly managed to free itself in time for it to drop into his palm. It stayed that way, and then Harry reached up a hand.

It crumpled.

They were both silent, staring at the now black pile of ashes held in the pale hand, and then Harry was standing. His eyes were filled with fury and he was obviously holding back tears.

"Harry—"

"Don't fucking _talk_ to me," he hissed, and his voice was cold and clipped again. He spun around, and the magic dissipated instantly, leaving the hall cold and quiet once more. Harry ran fingers through his hair before spitting on the ground. Draco felt hurt before reminding himself that he didn't care. Not anymore, remember? Tomorrow was his dying day; he had to remind himself of that.

"Go to sleep," the princeling said.

Draco watched him leave, and then he was alone again.

* * *

Harry padded into his room silently; ignoring the baleful look Nestea gave him when she opened the door for him. He wasn't exactly sure why she was still in there, watching over him, but what niggled most at his brain was the look on her face when she got in. He was too tired to even comprehend it as he slipped into the bed and she resumed her normal position in the chair beside it.

"Good night," she said softly.

Harry stared at her. "Why are you here?"

She started. "Blunt, aren't we?"

"Answer me."

She bowed her head. "Of course, your Majesty." There was something about the way she said it that was condescending, but he didn't offer to correct it. "I am here in case anything else should happen, so that I may be able to help as best as I can until Mistress Malfoy arrives."

She'd worked hard to come up with that answer, Harry thought. He stared at her longer, and then glanced at the large stomach. "You're having the baby really soon," he said. He could feel it, too, especially since his body had become more sensitive to magic since that—episode a few moments ago.

"Yes," she said, looking nonplussed. "I'm already feeling contractions. My water broke a while ago, but the Mediwitch here said it's going to be a while and, since they're very far apart, it won't matter anyway if I go on with life as normal."

"Good for you," Harry said, nuzzling his face into the pillow. He wondered what it was about this woman that made him unable to treat her like a subordinate. Something chilled his bones and told him he would change that very soon depending on his choice tomorrow.

There was a comfortable quiet that didn't extend to Harry's mind, and he stared at Nestea in the dark. "I kissed him," he said softly.

"I know. I felt it."

For some reason, he felt a wave of relief so great that as it washed over him he nearly drowned in it. The tears spilled from his eyes again, and he sniffed into his pillow. He knew this would be it; his last moment of weakness for a long, long while, and until then he'd have to shut his mouth and emotions and act like it was never going well with him. Nestea was suddenly rubbing his back, and he hiccupped lightly.

"I don't—I don't want do this," he told her.

"I know."

"And I'm sorry that I made you go through all of this trouble, and everyone else, and—I really just don't want to _forget_."

This time, there was no answer except for the soft murmuring. Harry listened as his sobs subsided, and realized it was a story.

_There have always been people in this world that needed a path to follow…_

"I'm so sick."

_And sometimes, it worked out better with one person than the other, but no one ever really felt upset about it because that was the natural order of things._

The room started to spin; it was midnight, and between the tolling of the bell and Nestea's story, Harry felt relaxed. A light drumming began in his ears, a steady rhythm that began to build up gradually. Waves of power washed off of him, spreading around the castle.

* * *

Luna and Genevieve, climbing up the stairs leading from the very belly of the mansion with two swords hidden in their clothes, stopped and stared at the darkness ahead of them when they felt it. They prayed fervently that everyone was tucked away in their beds and they would get to their beds before they collapsed—from the weight of the swords they carried and from the pull of the magic that was affecting them so strongly.

Bellatrix wasn't sleeping. She was sitting outside of Luna's room, waiting to listen to the breathing of the girl inside, and wondering what it was that was leading her down this path. She didn't understand her obsession with the Lovegood child, except for maybe the fact that she was something pure, and Bellatrix had always wanted someone else to be the tainted one.

* * *

Harry lay sleeping, letting the magic thrum through him as everyone else waited, watched, and listened.

He dreamt of butterflies.

_There once was a boy I knew, beautiful and kind in every way, who came to such a crossroads. He had no one but himself and another companion, always hidden in the shadows, and everything he could ever hope for was dashed to the ground. The boy wasn't sure of what to do, so he sat down in the dirt and waited for a choice to come to him. _

_It never did.

* * *

_

"If someone ever touches you, Harry, they're dead."

"I know."

"And if they ever hurt you—"

"They're dead, I know."

"Harry—"

"Don't. I don't—"

"And if I ever do anything to you, Harry, what will you do?"

Nothing.

"What do you think I'll do?"

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

"It doesn't matter anyway, Draco. You would never do that to me. Ever."

Nothing.

_Nothing_.

* * *

The storm started, raining so hard that it seemed like someone wanted vengeance on the very earth. It pattered down on rooftops, and thunder rumbled like an angry voice. Lightning crackled and attacked the earth with fury, bent on raising hell.

Someone jumped as a bush suddenly ignited next to them. Albus Dumbledore calmly put it out and kept walking, watching the castle in front of him.

"This isn't normal," Tonks said, next to him. She was already in a Death Eater's robes, staring hard through the rain and with the mask the Ministry had supplied tucked under her arm. "This rain isn't normal."

"Things concerning Harry usually aren't."

Tonks laughed and then checked herself. "Albus, really. I don't know what we're going to do beyond this. It seems more like we're rushing in and attacking than anything."

"Oh, no, far from that," Dumbledore said. "We've got groups attacking from every conceivable corner, and besides that, I've recruited a little help. It seems Orion owes Draco Malfoy a favor of some sort."

Tonks looked shocked. "The leader of the centaurs in the Forbidden Forest owes my _nephew_ some help? Albus, Orion used to try and _kill_ the people that wandered into his territory!"

"Draco can change people too," Dumbledore said. "Orion has been following us with his people for a while now. They haven't caught up yet and I don't expect them to before we hit the castle, but they will be backup, as well as whatever other creatures may follow. I expect they have a score to settle with Tynan as well."

Tonks shook her head. "You're amazing, Albus."

"I think I tend to try," Dumbledore said. He had said the same thing to Arthur a while ago, hadn't he?

My, he thought, Time had been passing in an odd fashion indeed.

* * *

Seamus woke up with an odd sense of bereavement in the back of his mind. He kneeled on his bed for a moment before glancing down next to him. Carina was curled up and breathing deeply into the pillow. Seamus grinned; had Blaise been here, he was sure he would have been castrated a while ago.

Carefully, the Irish boy slipped out of his bed and peered out of the window. It was raining too hard outside to be able to tell anything, but didn't mean he couldn't see, even if vaguely. There was something moving along the castle grounds—actually, a _lot_ of somethings. All black robed and hooded—

"_Holy shit!_"

Everyone in the dormitory came flying awake, and Dean nearly killed himself as he tripped over Neville in his rush to get to his friend. "What, mate, what is it—?"

But Seamus was sprinting from the room. It didn't take long before they all followed as he rushed down the stairs, yelling for someone to get the Headmistress. He didn't stop even when McGonagall joined him, yelling shrilly for him to cease his actions. Seamus only halted when he got to the main doors, and that was because he pushed them open.

In the archway, everyone skidded behind him, and stared. Teachers who had been roused from their sleep stared, none caring that they were rain-drenched, and the few other students who had stayed were there as well.

What looked like hundreds of banshees were gliding across the grounds, in the direction of the main gate of Hogwarts. For some reason, it was open, letting them out. At the feet of the banshees were creatures, scuttling and slithering and hopping, all heading for the gates. Centaurs wove in and out of the procession, talking amongst themselves and exclaiming about the stars.

Seamus started as one of the centaurs detached itself from the group and stood in front of him. It snorted lightly, and he stared at the dark coat dappled with some spots of white and gray.

"Seamus Finnegan, we are leaving the Forest. We are joining the cause to rid the world of the curse that is Tynan Malfoy."

"I don't get it," Seamus said, startled by his own audacity, but he couldn't really dwell on it. How had the creature known his name?

The centaur looked up the sky, and then back down. "Don't think too hard on it, youngling. Know only that the Forest has been deserted. Those that remain will not be able to do much for you."

Seamus nodded, although he was staring a little at the Giant Squid, who had emerged from the water and was waving its tentacles as though in farewell. He could feel Dean shaking next to him and knew that his friend had seen it too.

"Um, thank you very much," Seamus said, remembering his manners. He almost asked if the centaur wanted to come in for some tea, but restrained himself. "But I heard whatever's going to happen is going to happen on Harry's birthday—which is, um, today I think. Right now." He stressed the words lightly.

"We have our ways," the centaur said, and looked up again. Seamus followed his gaze this time and his eyes widened. Dark shapes were flapping against the sky, hovering for a moment before shooting away at incredibly fast speeds. He looked back down only to see that the centaur was gone. His gaze fell to the gates. As soon as the creatures were beyond them, most vanished or sped up.

The convoy lasted for another few minutes before disappearing totally, as if in seconds. Silence reigned supreme, as it had so much in the past few months. After a moment, McGonagall bristled.

"Everyone, back inside. We don't need you all dying of cold thanks to Mr. Finnegan," she said, gazing sternly at him. Seamus knew she would want to speak with him, and he suddenly felt exhausted. When everyone was gone, McGonagall gave him a weary look.

"You called me the Headmistress, when we were going down the halls."

Seamus looked surprised. "Um, yes."

"Don't," she said, her voice steely. "Albus _will_ be back, and so will all the other children. This will not end badly, make no mistake."

Seamus nodded, and she looked away, his dismissal. He left her standing in the rain, looking at the gates, which were beginning to close of their own accord. For one moment, Seamus thought, McGonagall looked like the old woman she really was, handling too much for her already burdened shoulders. And then she turned around and arched an eyebrow at him.

"Well?"

He left.

* * *

So...ka...it's been a while, darlings.

**BUY THE LIKE VINES CD BY THE HUSH SOUND; STADIUM ARCADIUM - RED HOT CHILI PEPPERS, FROM THE CARPET FOR THE ACADEMY IS..., THE SAME OLD BLOODRUSH TO THE HEAD FOR CUTE IS WHAT WE AIM FOR, AS CRUEL AS SCHOOL CHILDREN FOR GYM CLASS HEROES, A SEASON IN HELL FOR OCTOBER FALL and lastly but not least, ALL WE KNOW IS FALLING BY PARAMORE.**

There. Now that my little bit of summer music tunage and consumerage is over, I can get back to blabbing about this. It's actually been saved and finished on my computer for about two weeks now, but...ano...it's just that I was thinking maybe I'd post a double-feature but never got around to it, and the I had finals. BLAAAAAAAAAH.

But, on the plus side, I have had muchos muchos time to reevaluate my life. I found out I'm still the same; pretty crazy and yaoi-obsessed, but yeah, that's me. Tell me, luvvies, how was your day?

And to my beloved JOOLS: dude, I haven't seen x-men but that could possibly be because I am very much hoping to see The Omen and See No Evil, even though I won't be able to sleep afterwards. Plusward, I am being very odd because graduation is next week and I'm already dying because I'm terrified of losing my friends since I'm going to a different school. Gimme a cyberhug and cybercookie, pleasies? Mille grazi.

* * *


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